


From Winter to Summer and Winter Again II

by michael_kelso72



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire & Related Fandoms, A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: F/M, Game of Thrones Spoilers, House Bolton, House Stark, The Dreadfort (ASoIaF), The North (ASOIAF), Winterfell, Young Love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-19
Updated: 2019-12-18
Packaged: 2021-02-26 00:49:06
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 17
Words: 23,380
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21854800
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/michael_kelso72/pseuds/michael_kelso72
Summary: The tale of Robb Stark's doting wife. All characters and settings but my oc belong to George RR Martin.
Relationships: Robb Stark/Original Female Character(s)
Kudos: 18





	1. Chapter 1

Ramsay Snow called of his dogs from his fresh kill. He happily strutted down the hill to retrieve his arrow from her neck. He skid along the side of the hill, his hand gripping the mud and grass to ease himself down. His new pants were stained, the brown dirt now laid over the bloodstains. He whistled loudly as he finally reached his kill. "Oh Kyra," he said as he stroked the blonde girl's hair. "So pretty." He yanked the arrow from her neck, ignoring the blood that began to fall from the wound. "Get her!" He screamed and his dogs happily ran toward the dead body for their meal. Ramsay walked toward the closest tree and leaned against its trunk, he sat down in the mud and moss that nestled against it. He watched as his dogs fought over the skins and meats of his past lover. Ramsay pulled out his dagger and threw it in the air, catching it on its hilt with ease.

"Snow!'' He looked up, it was Walton. Ramsay rolled his eyes and continued to watch his dogs rather than the Captian. "SNOW!" Ramsay stopped throwing the knife.

"WHAT?!" Ramsay screamed, his dogs' growls halted. Walton came into view, he knelt over the top of the hill to meet the bastard's gaze. His hands gripped the filthy grass to steady himself from falling as he stood on his knees.

Walton smiled, "Your father wanted me to give you some news. Your lady sister is pregnant." Walton immediately left Ramsay with his thoughts. He let the dagger he held in his hand slip across his fingertips, opening the skin and allowing new flowing blood to drip. His heart pained at the thought of another heir ruining his ambitions.

"Get her!" He screamed once more, his dogs then resumed their feast on his lover's corpse.


	2. Chapter 2

Lady Rhaenyra Stark leaned against a wooden post, watching her husband with his brothers. Beside her, their two-year-old son sat. Lord Domeric Stark, the heir to Winterfell and the Dreadfort, sat quietly next to his mother slapping his hands against the mud. He would proudly show her his dirty hands before giddily wiping them on her dress. Rhaenyra did not mind, she just smiled at him in encouragement.

She bent to pick him up, he clapped his small hands together as she spoke, "Filthy boy. My filthy silly boy, I ought to bathe you now." He squirmed in her arms as she kissed his cheek. Rhaenyra situated him properly on her waist, his leg rested against her pregnant stomach.

She had lived in Winterfell for nearly three years, it was her home. Rhaenyra admired every bit of the castle, the people even more. She had grown attached to the pack of wolves, she was a member herself. Their closeness enveloped her with each passing day. Rhaenyra was proud it did.

"Don't call him filthy, he is all but," laughed Robb from his place near his brothers. He turned to meet her gaze, his blue eyes making her heart quicken.

"His hands say otherwise," she lifted their son's small, stained hand. Robb smiled before turning to further encourage Bran on his bow stance.

Oh how I love him, she thought. Robb had changed since the start of their marriage. He no longer had the uncontrollable red mop she loved so much; it was now constantly tamed. His body had evolved into that of a man, Rhaenyra hardly complained. Robb's once skinny stature was now a muscle build, toned from his training. He is so manly now, Rhaenyra giggled, recalling her thoughts on their wedding night.

Jon, who was calmly standing near Bran, whispered to him. Rhaenyra could not hear, she readjusted her son in her arms and walked to the youngest Stark. Rickon was situated on a stable bar, happily sitting on a saddle that was placed atop. "And what are you giggling at little lord?" He continued to laugh as he looked at her from under his curly hair.

"Watching Bran, he keeps missing. When I train I won't miss," the small boy giggle. With her free hand, Rhaenyra ruffled his hair.

"Don't be smart, Rickon." She attempted to scold him while holding back a laugh. Their conversation was interrupted by a roar of laughter, Bran had missed again. Robb and Jon nearly fell over in humor. It was at that moment when Rhaenyra noticed Lord and Lady Stark.

The two were watching from the balcony above. "And which one of you was a marksman at ten," questioned Eddard. Rickon continued to laugh as his older brothers blushed. Rhaenyra looked to her husband and good brothers, she let her eyes linger on Jon. His eyes glared up to the balcony, Lady Stark stood starring down at him. She pushed Rickon's face to her, not wanting him to see his mother degrading his bastard brother.

"What did Maester Luwin teach you today?" Rhaenyra smiled at him. Rickon began to tap his finger along his nephew's foot.

Rickon continued to stare at Domeric's small foot, "About your house." He looked back up to her, letting his hand fall back to his thigh. "Our blades are sharp."

"Yes, our blades are shar-" she was interrupted by the sound of an arrow ripping through the air. Rhaenyra held Domeric closer to her chest as she turned her head. An arrow struck the target.

"Arya!'' Bran ran quickly to chase his older sister, she rolled her eyes as she watched the two run by. Rhaenyra placed her son on the floor, holding both his hands to help him steady. Together, they slowly walked to Robb.

"My beautiful boy!" Robb exclaimed as he knelt to the floor, arms opened. Domeric released his mother's hands at the sight of his father, he eagerly ran to him with his brown hair bouncing with every wobbly step. He happily ran to his father's waiting arms. "Leaving so soon?" His eyes meet Rhaenyra's.

"I am sorry husband, but we are dirty. Mudd seems to be our son's favorite thing. When you return, you will have a clean child and wife awaiting you. Along with a hot bath for yourself." She walked closer to him, kissing his cheek. Her arms slid between his, pulling their son from him. "Say farewell to daddy, Domeric." Rhaenyra waved softly to Robb encouraging their son.

"Bye dada," came the sweet voice. Robb inched toward their son and swiftly kissed his head. The child hid his head in his mother's shoulder, not fond of his father's beard. With that, she left the courtyard. 

In her quarters, Rhaenyra lovingly gazed at her child. "Stinky boy," She sang as she tickled Domeric on her bed. "My stinky boy." She kissed his belly, grateful he would squeal in delight. "My stinky boy is clean." She lifted him gently to begin to place his diaper on. "My stinky stinky boy is all clean." Rhaenyra pushed his wet hair from his forehead and tapped his nose.

"Rhaenyra?'' Came Catelyn's voice from the other side of the door, followed swiftly by a knock. "May I come in?" She gave the woman a yell of yes.

Catelyn stalked in, standing tall. Her gown was lined with fur, a true noblewoman. Rhaenyra's inspiration. "I have news. May I," she gestured to the bed for her to sit. Rhaenyra nodded.

"What is happening in the North today, Cat? You look absolutely flustered." Rhaenyra helped Domeric sit up, he pulled himself towards the pillows to examine their stitching. She placed a hand on her stomach, trying not to itch the ever stretching skin.

Catelyn looked to her grandson, watching the toddler's every move. "When is the next one to be born?" Her eyes then looked towards her daughter in law's large stomach that was covered by a thin nightgown.

"The end of this month or next. Maester Luwin believes it is another boy, I am carrying the same as last. Hopefully soon, I am once again the size of a pregnant giant." Rhaenyra's hand went to a lower position, the child within continued to shift. "Why?"

Catelyn gave her a horrified glance, "Because," she began to cress the fur on her sleeves. "The king rides for Winterfell, with the entire lot of them." Rhaenyra sat straighter in the bed, her hands gripping the bed.

"All," she paused. "All the Lannisters too then?" All Catelyn did was a nod. "We best start making our preparations."


	3. Chapter 3

Rhaenyra was exhausted, utterly drained. She would be awakened, fed, and dressed all before dawn. She was forced to leave her sleeping husband and son to shadow Lady Catelyn around Winterfell. The two were readying Winterfell for the KIng's arrival. Catelyn insisted that she needed help in picking decorations and linens for the occasion, it was also a lesson for Rhaenyra. A lesson for the next Lady of Winterfell.

The two stood in the grand hall, side by side. Rhaenyra fidgeted with the winter roses that lined the neck of her gown, "We need to replace the candles." She looked up toward the light fixture that was being dusted. Catelyn nodded before ordering someone to do so.

Rhaenyra turned as servants began to whisper, "My lord." Robb walked in holding Domeric in one arm. He was anxious, his shoulders were clearly tense even under the heavy black cloak. His steps were heavy as he stalked towards his wife.

"There's been a deserter,'' Robb gently handed her Domeric. Rhaenyra adjusted him on her hip, smiling to the small boy. "My presence is required at the execution. My father has only told me this morning." Rhaenyra nodded, she pushed herself up on her toes for a kiss. Her hand gripped the back of his neck before she spoke.

"Be safe." Rhaenyra's hand fell to her side, she watched him as he left. She let her son slide softly to the floor, his small boots making a gentle tap. He looked up to her with his blue, Tully eyes. "Yes," he smiled, showing his minimal teeth. "How about we sneak away? Let us bug one of your aunts, best not to forget Rickon." Rhaenyra grasped his small hand in hers as they left the hall.

Rhaenyra stood behind her son as he attempted to crawl up the stairs towards the rooms, he would look back every so often to see if she noticed his mischief. In his little voice, he would gleefully say, "Mama, see?!'

Rhaenyra laughed, "Yes sweet boy. Come on." She picked him up once again to quicken their journey to see Sansa and Arya. She stopped in front of the open door to Rickon's room, searching for the boy. She spotted a large lump under the furs on the bed, along with a smaller one. "Oh no Domeric," she created false worry with her tone, "It seems your uncle has vanished." A giggle came from the bed. "I must tell your grandparents, they must know about their child's disappearance." She smiled at her confused son before exiting the room. Rhaenyra did not get far down the hallway until Rickon called after her. He ran to her holding her cat, Fat.

"Rhea! Wait! Don't tell them I've vanished." Fat's feet nearly dangled to the floor, Rickon held the large cat under his top legs. Rhaenyra gasped when she saw the two.

"Little Lord, by the gods you're here. Winterfell is blessed to have you back,'' she bowed her head to the young boy. "Come we are going to bother your sisters. Care to join?" Rickon nodded eagerly, his red curls bouncing. He grasped her hand, Fat falling gracefully to the floor, the three walked together to Sansa's room. Rickon knocked quickly, knowing he needed to get Arya to join them.

"Who is it?" Came the soothing voice of Sansa Stark. Rickon screamed each of their names. "I am coming." Sansa opened the door, a purple dress on her person. She smiled at Rhaenyra and asked, "May I hold him?" She nodded to the young girl, handing her son to her.

"My back is hurting from holding him all day. But I rather him be in my arms than walking," Rhaenyra heard a loud bang down the hall, followed by light arguing. "Arya will be joining us." Sansa rolled her eyes as she walked to the window to show her nephew the view. "Don't be like that."

"Like what?'' She questioned annoyed. Rhaenyra sat on Sansa's colorful bed, placing her hands on her stomach.

She sighed, "Resentful." The arguing became louder as Arya opened the bedroom door for her and Rickon. "Why are you fighting?" Arya glared to her.

"He slammed my door. He nearly hit my face." Rickon climbed on the bed behind Rhaenyra, believing she would protect him. She rolled her eyes before reprimanding him. She pulled him playfully by the arm to face her.

"Little Lord! You must be more careful.'' Rickon laughed to her. Arya sat on the floor near the foot of the bed, staring at Sansa and Domeric who still stood at the window. "Now, you are all aware the King rides for Winterfell." Each of the children looked to her, eyes intrigued.

Arya nodded, "There have been talks," she placed her arms on the bed. "But no one has warned us fully. Mother usually tells us to be on our best behavior before a guest comes."

"Just you," Sansa remarked, she placed Domeric on the floor. He waddled to Arya, she turned from the bed to catch him before he fell. "He is bringing his entire family, mother told me." Sansa walked to the foot of the bed to sit with her sister and nephew.

Rhaenyra pulled Rickon to her, the child laughed as he dramatically bounced on the bed beside her. "That is true," she let her fingers push through his curls. "You do know why he is coming?'' The two girls shook their heads. Rickon blankly stared back, his hand going to her belly in attempts to feel the baby move. "The King will most likely ask your father to be his new hand."

Sansa turned her head sharply, "Does that mean we will be going south? To live in the Capital?" She spoke quickly through her excitement.

"I don't want to go south, all my friends are here," spoke Arya. 

"What friends?'' Sansa snidely questioned. Arya quickly yanked her sister's red hair, her hand reaching passed Domeric to do so. "Arya!" Came the loud screech.

Rhaenyra sat forward on the bed, slapping Arya's hand away from Sansa. "Stop that!'' She scowled at both girls. "It is only if your father says yes," she returned to her comfortable position and pulled Rickon to her side.

"I hope Bran gets to meet Ser Barristan,'' smiled Arya. "He wants to be a knight you know."

Rhaenyra nodded, "I know, that or join the night's watch and I have to say," she paused. "Being a knight is more endearing."

"Slashing evil men, protecting the royal family! Slaying shadow cats and grumpkins! A true adventure," Arya turned to her and placed her arms against the bed. "I wish to be a knight or a sellsword." Rhaenyra held her tongue at her comment.

Sansa scoffed, "You are to marry a highborn lord. Women can't be knights.''

"Then I'll be the first. Ser Arya, an adventurer of the free cities. Rhea,'' her grey eyes turned a curious gaze. "Tell us a story, if not I cannot promise I won't pull Sansa's hair again.'' She glared to her sister at her left.

"Well," Rhaenyra sighed leaning back against the bed more.

Rickon sprung on to his knees, enthusiastically looking to his sister by law. "Please Rhea,'' he begged.

" Fine. Do you know what caused the war of the usurper?'' She was answered by a quiet room. Rickon shook his head, Sansa curiously glanced through the side of her eye and Arya turned her head from Domeric.

"No one has told us all of it," Arya spoke annoyed. Her hand went to the back of her nephew's head, she smoothed out the curls that were forming.

"Well, it is quite a story." Rhaenyra laughed lightly before continuing. "It all started with your aunt, Lyanna and the Prince Rhaegar Targaryen. There was a tourney at Herran Hall also known as the King's first appearance since he went mad. The King looked like the dead. His hair long, his nails curling over his hands, he would not let anyone cut them for he feared a slip of the scissors would end his life. He only went to the tourney because he believed Rhaegar was trying to take the throne, perhaps he was. The Prince did have the love of the people. He won the tourney and named your aunt his queen of love and beauty. Your uncle Brandon did not like that." Rickon sat up next to her, intrigued by the story. "He thought the Prince was shamming your young aunt. Months pass and your family is in Riverrun preparing for the wedding of your mother and her betrothed."

Sansa interrupted, "Uncle Brandon?" She helped lift Domeric onto the bed who then crawled to his mother.

"Yes. But during all the preperations no one noticed a certain dragon prince sneak into the keep and steal a wolf. Rhaegar had kidnapped your aunt, for he had become obsessed with her beauty he needed her." Arya's eyes widened as Rhaenyra spoke. "No one knew where he took her until your father found her dead. Your uncle Brandon and Grandfather rode for King's Landing, demanding action would be taken for her disappearance. But they had forgotten the King was mad. He had his guards tie a rope around your uncle's throat and set your Grandfather ablaze. One burned alive, the other strangled himself. They say you can still smell the wildfire in the red keep, that there still is a darkened mark where your grandfather stood." Sansa looked up to her, tears in her eyes. "Word quickly got back to your father and Robert Baratheon, the king needed their heads. He was not expecting a rebellion or the death of his heir. And that is how the war of the usurper started. But, there has never been justice for our house, for your aunt, uncle, grandfather. Remember that." Rhaenyra continued to smooth Rickon's curls.

He laid back on the bed, "I don't like that story."


	4. Chapter 4

"High in the halls of the kings who are gone," sang Rhaenyra softly as she laid beside her son. "Jenny would dance with her ghost." Domeric's large blue eyes were closed, he was enjoying the sound of his mother's voice. "The ones she had lost and the ones she had found," Rhaenyra smiled as his breathing began to deepen. "And the ones who had loved her the most." She smiled and picked him up from the bed, she walked to his small bed that was at the foot of her own and placed him down. He hardly moved. "You do love Jenny of Oldstone don't you." She walked to the tall candlestick in the corner and grabbed the small ornate box of matches from the chimney. Rhaneyra pulled a thin match from the box and skid it along the side, the tsk sound it made calmed her. She looked to see the small orange flame, it danced swiftly. Rhaenyra let it melt down the stick calmly before lighting each candle. The candle flame was much larger, it intoxicated her.

Rhaenyra let her hand graze the flame, she felt nothing. The flame tickled her palm as it tried to burn her, she pulled it back to her side. The child within her kicked her as she pulled back from the flame. She lifted the skirts of her dress to pull it over her head, leaving her in her undergarments. Rhaenyra walked to the bed and soothed the constantly moving child within. "You will be a very active child I already know," her child's foot pressed into her side. She rolled her eyes.

The sound of footsteps, quickly walking, came from the hallway. They were dulled by the sound of whispers, Rhaenyra went to the door. She pulled the door to see her husband, holding a small pup. "Robb?'' He looked up from the animal in his arms. "Who's your friend?" She moved out of his way for him to enter their room.

"This is a dire wolf, love. Our dire wolf." Rhaenyra's eyes widened. The animal was said to be extinct, none alive south of the wall. "I have yet to give him a name," he placed the animal on their bed. The small pup happily curled into a ball at the corner, calmly watching the two.

"He is ours?" Rhaenyra sat beside the small creature, her hand went to rub its head. He closed his eyes as her fingers scratched behind his ears. "He is a lovely beast." The wolf's fur slid under the pad of her fingers smoothly as if it were silk.

Robb began to undress near the fire. "Yes he is ours," he watched his wife pet the pup. He quietly removed his cloak, placing it on the chair beside the fireplace. His eyes went to his sleeping son who was peacefully unaware. "What do you think Domeric will do?" Rhaenyra glanced from the wolf to their child.

"Chase the poor thing nonstop," she moved to her side on the bed to move the blankets down. "How did you find him? A dire wolf, south of the wall." Her calm voice was filled with amazement. Rhaenyra settled under the heavy covers as she watched Robb undress.

"His mother," their eyes met. "Was impaled at the neck by a stag's antler. He comes from a whole litter, each Stark child has a pup."

Rhaenyra's violet eyes widened, "Six?! Six dire wolves?!" She attempted to whisper as shock overcame her. Robb laughed, pulling his pant leg. "You don't think it odd? A stag piercing the neck of a dire wolf only days before the king arrives."

"Rhea, you think too much into things love." He walked to the bed, moving the pup from the foot of the bed. Robb gently held the animal in his arms. "He is a pretty color. Soft little man," he held the pup under his top legs, inches from his face. "Grey, our house color." His blue eyes met Rhaenyra's, she nodded. Robb joined her under the blankets, placing the small animal back on the bed as he did.

Weeks later, Rhaenyra angrily watched her child run around the courtyard. "Domeric Stark!" She screamed as her son chased after the ever-growing dire wolf. The once small pup was now the size of a large dog, growing quickly in the span of a week. Domeric grew fond of him quickly and the small wolf returned his affection. "Domeric leave him alone,'' Rhaenyra stepped between the two as the grey wolf zoomed ahead her son, she picked up the child quickly. He angrily screamed as she put him over her shoulder. His cries intensified as she walked further toward the castle and further away from the dire wolf.

Domeric's small hands hit her back in protest before he cried, "No mama." She held her emotionless face as the servants of Winterfell let their eyes fall on her and the angry child. "No mama!" Rhaenyra began to ascend the stairs to the living quarters, attempting to hold the wall for support and her screaming son. Thankfully the dire wolf was not following.

Rhaenyra pushed the door to her room open, Domeric's screams still ringing throughout the castle. She placed him on the bed, where he sat red-faced but no tears. She knelt in front of him, careful of her pregnant stomach. She put a hand on his head and pushed down his ever-growing curls. Rhaenyra smiled at him, she loved him even during these moments.

"You are too young to understand frustration, my love," she kissed his forehead before she tried to get up, she could not. Rhaenyra gave a frustrated sigh before reaching for Domeric's hand, he began to scream as if her touch pained him. The door then opened.

"It sounded as if he were dying," Robb said as he entered the room. He offered her his gloved hand before pulling her to him. "What happened?" His eyes glanced down at the screaming child whose face was slowly returning to its pale color.

Rhaenyra sighed, "He was chasing the wolf. I stopped him." She bent to pick him up, stopping halfway as pain erupted through her back. She placed both hands on the base of her back, rubbing. Robb watched her before lifting Domeric, his cries weakened. "I swear he hates me."

Robb sympathetically looked to her, "He does not, he could never." His hand gently rubbed his son's back as the cries diminished. "Domeric?" The large blue eyes looked back to his own, "Do you hate mama?" The child's head shook quickly, his hair moving with every shake. Rhaenyra placed a hand on his head smiling.

"He does not know what the word even mean, he is too pure. I just doubt myself sometimes." Robb shook his head to her.

"Never doubt yourself, you are a great mother and wife. I would be dead years ago if you were not here." She laughed at his comment. He handed her their son before he began to remove his cloak,

"My mother wishes for me to have a shave and a good haircut." Rhaenyra sat on the bed with Domeric and gave a shocked gasp.

"No! My handsome husband will be gone, the grungy Northman I love will be replaced by a Tully once more!" She jokingly protested and fell to the bed dramatically, placing her the back of her hand on her forehead. "Our child will not recognize you." Domeric crawled to her, his small hands began to tangle in her hair.

Robb smirked to her as he pulled out a linen shirt, "So dramatic, I will be back to have dinner with you lot." He walked to the bed and kissed her forehead, doing the same to their son. 

That night the two laid entangled together, "So smooth," Rhaenyra laughed as her hand grazed her husband's cheek, her finger trailed down to his jaw. "I take back my words from this morning," she laughed. Robb smiled, moving his face toward her. He kissed her gently, bringing his hand to rest on her cheek.

He pulled away, "I love you." His forehead rested against hers.

"I love you," Rhaenyra whispered back. She rested her head on his bare chest, exhausted from the day. Robb gently trailed his hand down her arm.


	5. Chapter 5

Rhaenyra grasped Robb's hand, grateful she was wearing gloves. Her palms were sweating beneath from nerves. She rested her free hand on her belly, trying to ease her anxious feelings. She turned to Robb, who did not let his nerves show. He held onto her hand tightly, his other held onto their son who rested his head on his father's shoulder. The sound of horses became louder and the grip the two had on each other's hand became tighter.

The first banners of House Baratheon came into view, the proud stag was followed by the golden Lannister lion. A blonde boy came into view, a boy clearly of Lannister blood. His green eyes wandered over each of their faces, stopping at Sansa who he looked over. Rhaenyra looked to the girl on her right to notice her good sister's blush. The royal carriage followed the boy along with numerous King's Guards and Lannister soldiers. Then came a man, so fat his horse was clearly struggling to hold him up. "The king," Robb whispered to her. She snickered softly, as did he. The party came to a halt as Robert Baratheon toddled off his horse.

Rhaenyra struggled to bend her knees, Robb let go of her hand to wrap it around her forearm to steady her. The king was approaching quickly, Ned stood. Robb helped her up, his eyes never leaving the king. "You got fat," came the raspy voice of Robert. Rhaenyra gently tapped Robb who she gave a questioning look to. Are we meant to laugh, she thought. Her thoughts were interrupted by the king and Ned's hearty laughter. Robert began to greet her family, beginning with Catelyn and Rickon. She watched as the king ruffled the small boy's hair and smiled as Rickon attempted to flatten in as the king made his way toward her husband.

"You must be Robb," he shook Robb's hand and glanced toward the tired child in his arms. "And who is this?"

"Domeric," Rhaenyra answered beside the two. Her eyes met the king's for the first time, the eyes of the man who destroyed one of the greatest dynasties of all time. "Heir to Winterfell and the Dreadfort."

"The Dreadfort?" The king spat out the name, "You're Roose's daughter, aren't you. You don't look anything like him or your mother." He grabbed her hand that stuck to her side and kissed the back of it. She was grateful she was wearing gloves. Robert continued to greet her family, leaving a bitter feeling in her stomach. Robb's free hand reached for her's, he intertwined their fingers.

The queen then exited the carriage, followed by two Lannister children and various maids. Rhaenyra glanced over her face, a sour look contoured her features. She spoke to one of the King's guards, his features mirrored her own. It was the Kingslayer.

That night, Rhaenyra sat proudly beside her husband. Domeric thankfully was being watched by Old Nan, he did not need to witness the fowl forms of celebration. The feast was loud, music blared and obnoxious laughs howled throughout the hall. Men surrounded the king as he pulled maids to his lap, encouraging his filth. Rhaenyra watched from her seat across from Theon, gripping her goblet tightly as she watched Robert place his face in a woman's breasts. She forced herself to look away and took a sip of her wine.

"Love!'' Rhaenyra turned on the bench to see Robb calling her from the end of the table. He stood alongside a man, clearly a Stark, adorned fully in black. Benjen Stark, she thought as she stood to her husband's call. She lived her dark skirts as she walked, mindful of every step she took. The closer she reached Robb, his uncle and father, the more a slight dreadful feeling settled in her stomach. This dread was pushed aside as she saw the pure pride on her husband's face.

"Uncle this is my wife," Robb placed his arm around her waist. "Lady Rhaenyra Stark." He kissed the side of her face, she smelled the rum on his breath.

"My lady,'' Benjen knelt slightly, Rhaenyra nodded her head to him. "I am delighted to see the rumors are true, you do not look very Bolton. You have earned your name the Pretty Wolf."

Rhaenyra looked to Nedd, he averted his gaze. "And who calls me the Pretty Wolf?"

"Fellow brothers who have been so grateful to see you. Even some Lannisters are murmuring that name." She nodded, pleased with his comments. She left the three Stark men, wanting to return to the drunk mess that was her ward.

Theon's head was turned to the left, his arms crossed over his chest as he watched Sansa and her young friend, Jeyne. He took a sip from his drink as if he were satisfied by his perverted thoughts of them. Rhaenyra returned to her seat, hardly hitting his head as she did. "What is wrong with you? They are children." She angrily yelled to him as he rubbed his head.

"I wasn't looking at Sansa!" He tried to defend himself, a scowl on his face.

"Jeyne is just as young. You truly are filth." She took a sip from her wine chalice, her violet eyes never leaving his. "Disgusting filth," she burped.

Theon smirked, "They don't think that way at the brothels."

"Yes, because what Ros thinks matters." Theon kicked her leg beneath the table. The sound of the plates and cutlery clattered loudly against the wood, as did the bench as it skid with Theon's body at his abuse, "Bastard. One of the girls leaving your room whispered to my maid, His cock will fall off. I must say her opinion I agree with."

"Do pay no mind to," he paused, "Sara? Laurel?" Theon paused, his blue eyes looking back to her. "You know it's not true, Rhea."

Rhaenyra giggled lightly, "But it is. It will fall off."

"No."

"It is true, Theon. Your cock will fall off," she laughed nearly spilling her wine. She nearly fell from her seat as she saw Theon's shocked expression. "You must stop with the whores." Rhaenyra gave another unladylike laugh as Theon's mouth slowly fell open.

He took a sip from his drink. "The day my cock falls off, Stark is the day Robb is my King and you Queen." Rhaenyra turned slightly to see Robb reentering the hall, returning from checking on Jon outside. Most likely. She placed her hand on his thigh once he sat.

Rhaenyra sat up, her free hand slapped against the wooden table. "I will take that bet, Kraken," she smiled to the ward across from her, holding out her hand.

Theon gripped her forearm, "I swear by the drowned god, Rhaenyra." Both strongly looked into each other's eyes before breaking into more giggles. Robb gave them a confused look and Rhaenyra merely whispered to him the words, Cock, and King. His confusion grew.

She turned her head to see Sansa who sat alongside her friend Jeyne Poole. The two girls whispered, passing a bag of wine to one another. The young Jeyne glanced up, her pale eyes meeting Rhaenyra's, only to look past her to Robb. Rhaenyra pushed herself closer to her husband, feeling jealous of the child's wandering eyes. She looked back to the girl, seeing her head had fallen as she continued to speak to Sansa.

"Love?'' Robb spoke. "What do you think?" Rhaenyra pushed her dark hair over her shoulder as she looked back to her husband and Theon.

"On what?'' Theon rolled his eyes, picking up his goblet and bringing it back to his lips.

"How many more Snows will we have, since the king's here." Rhaenyra began to rub her hand against Robb's leg, inching it closer and closer towards his inner thigh.

Rhaenyra leaned in closer toward the table, "From the king? Or must I include from you as well?" She smirked to him, Theon took a gulp from his drink before slamming the cup down.

"I have no bastards," his drunken eyes glazed over as if he began to recount his previous affairs. Robb, who had remained in quiet during their arguing, placed his head on the table. The alcohol caught up to him.

Rhaenyra stood, placing a kiss on her husband's head before speaking, "I am going to bed love, I am also tired of talking about Theon's penis. I will send for you soon." She held her grey skirts as she exited the hall. She tightened her cloak around her, adjusting the dire wolf head that held it together. As she walked the dull pains in her back increased, she needed air. Her boots taped along the warm floor, echoing throughout the empty hallway.

The closer she got toward the exit, the cooler it got. The brisk northern air quickly reddened her cheeks, her hair gently brushed against her face as she finally stepped outside. Her hand soothed her stomach as she began to walk around the bend of the castle's wall. She could hear her dire wolf and his siblings in the distance, hunting no doubt. Their howls broke the quiet of the night. 

Before she curved around the wall, a voice stopped her. "I would not do that if I were you." It was a snide voice, it gave her a disturbing feeling. "You don't hear it." Rhaenyra finally turned in, it was the kingslayer. "Listen." Her ears focused on the sounds around them, she still heard the sounds of her wolf, but it was overpowered by moans and whimpers. Her face reddened as the realization hit her.

"The king?'' She whispered to him, her hands dropping from her stomach as she questioned. The knight simply nodded.

"Who else would I be standing here for? I would not just be listening to anyone fuck." He smirked to her before offering her his hand, "Ser Jaime Lannister, a most notable member of the King's Guard. You must be Lady Rhaenyra Stark, heir to the Dreadfort." She stared at his hand, not willing to take it.

"Yes," she angrily placed her hand in his white golved palm. He brought it to his lips for a kiss, his green eyes never leaving hers. Her face showed her pure disgust.

Jaime smirked to her, "Such a beauty, you should not be wasting away in the north." He let go of her hand, she swiftly brought it back to her stomach. Rhaenyra stood silent, her eyes looking into the green eyes of a murderer. He gave himself the title of merciful, she thought otherwise. The dishonorable act of killing one's king forever shamed a man, for Jaime Lannister it helped his ambitions. "You do not resemble your family one bit, my lady." His eyes glanced over her, Rhaenyra tightened her cloak around her in an attempt to shield herself.

"I hear that, with every new introduction. Your words don't shame me." His light eyebrows lifted at her words.

"I meant no offense, my lady," Jaime's tone shifted into a calm, seductive voice. She stepped away. "I met your mother years ago. I am sorry for your loss, I too lost my mother quite young." Rhaenyra made no comment at his attempt to empathize. "She was lovely, much like you. But Bethany did not have your violet eyes nor does your father." She turned, hoping to leave him with his filthy duties.

"Have I struck a nerve? Your father does have a bastard. Why couldn't your mother?"

"Hold your tongue, Kingslayer." Rhaenyra spat his hated nickname. She stalked back to the castle, her hate for Jaime Lannister boiling in her chest.


	6. Chapter 6

"I hate this visit truly," Rhaenyra whined as Catelyn helped her into a blue gown. "How can you be so nice? They are all awful." She pushed her arms through the bell sleeves and held the top of the dress to her chest.

Catelyn laughed lightly as she began to tie the strings at the nape of her neck, "I don't know." Rhaenyra laughed with her. "But I cannot sit with the queen any longer, that is why you are going." She finished tying the strings and held Rhaeyra's hand to guide her toward the bed. Domeric sat amongst the pillows in only his diaper, waiting for his mother to dress him.

"And you are awful for making me go alone." Catelyn parted her hair with her thin fingers, pushing her hair to the side, she began to braid. "What was your excuse for not joining her?''

"Domeric had a fever," came the small whisper. Rhaenyra turned in her spot, Catelyn stopped braiding.

"You lied so horribly to get out of spending time with her grace. I admire that." She sat straighter, fiddling with the dire wolf ring on her right ring finger. "I don't even know what to talk about, with her? Her children?" Catelyn began to tie off the braid at its end.

She sighed, "You will think of something you are a clever girl." She offered Rhaenyra her hands to stand. 

Rhaenyra slowly walked to the guests' quarters, dread enveloping her as she did. The familiar feeling alluding a reminiscing emotion. She wrung her hands as she nervously reached the room at the end of the hall, silently hoping the Queen would not be as awful as her twin. With a shaky hand, she knocked on the door. 

"Come in," came the soothing voice of the queen. Rhaenyra twisted to the doorknob, palms sweaty. She was greeted by the back of Cersei Lannister, the woman was looking out the window, a thick cloak wrapped around her person. She turned, "Ah a pretty wolf, I was told your mother in law would be joining me today. Not you." The green eyes looked over Rhaenyra as if she was examining her prey.

"Lady Stark is with my son, he is ill." Her hands went to her belly, attempting to soothe herself. She waited for Cersei to allow her to sit.

The queen gave a questioning look, "Oh, well then come. Pour us a drink and we shall enjoy each other's company." Cersei sat elegantly in the highback chair placed by the fire, she wrapped the cloak tighter around herself. Rhaenyra went to the dresser, where a jug of wine and few chalices were placed. She shakily began to pour the wine into a glass for the queen. She steadied her hand and walked toward the woman, and passed her the cup.

"Your grace," Rhaenyra whispered. Cersei nodded to her, eyes glancing toward the adjacent chair.

"You're with child?" Rhaenyra nodded, hands protectively going to her stomach again. "I will pray to the mother it is a boy, a healthy boy." Cersei then looked into her glass, the awkward silence enveloped them. "Tell me, what is it like living amongst the wolves?" Rhaenyra wrung her hands in her seat.

Her voice cracked, "I am one," she was interrupted.

"Through marriage. You have altered yourself greatly to fit in." The queen's thin eyebrows rose with her last statement.

Rhaenyra looked back, mouth open. "I have not. I continue to be a true northern woman."

"But the flayed man of your house has been replaced by a dire wolf. Tell me pretty wolf, do you see me giving up my lion for a stag?" Rhaenyra shook her head. "Exactly, never forget your family. Their words, their ambitions. You are weak if you do."

That night, her anger and sadness faded, Rhaenyra happily laid with her husband. Finding solitude to be a perfect remedy. Her head rested against her husband's chest, she gently rubbed her hand across it letting her fingers cress him. They laid entangled in one another, their sweaty limbs wrapped around the other. Rhaenyra lifted her head to look up to Robb, whose eyes were struggling to stay open. "Gods bless my mother for taking Domeric." Rhaenyra giggled as his chest moved with each word.

"Yes," she sat up then, moving her hair to tie it in a loose bun. "Where is our fast little wolf? I haven't seen him all day." Robb's calloused hand went to her back, rubbing light circles against her skin.

He sat up beside her, "Yes, he's as fast as the wind. But I am afraid I do not know. Probably chasing your poor cat." Rhaenyra leaned against him, a tired feeling enveloping her. He kissed the back of her head and whispered, "Grey Wind." She turned to face him.

"Grey Wind?'' He nodded, a smile spreading across his face.

"He is grey and fast, so," he paused. "Grey Wind." Rhaenyra gave him an odd look and pushed herself off the bed, her stomach dropped. The child had shifted causing her belly to now hang lower, they would no doubt be born soon.

She glanced back to her husband, he watched her as she waddled across the room. "Your son is ready to be born, have we discussed names?'' Robb shook his head. "I do like Henry or Roose for my father. But Henry is my favorite." Rhaenyra went to the dresser, retrieving a nightgown and attempted to pull it over the swell of her belly. "But for a girl?"

Robb pulled the furs higher up his body, "Lyanna. Or Bethany." Rhaenyra smiled at him as she fell to the bed beside him.


	7. Chapter 7

"I hate that you must go," whined Rhaenyra as her hands rested on Robb's thighs. He was retying his trousers, slowly placing himself back in his pants, eyes glazed over. His lovely wife sat before him on her knees, a tempting sight that would convince any man to stay home. "Screw the king, stay with me."

"You're always so needy when you're pregnant." His finger ran across her swollen lips. Robb stood from the bed, holding out his hand to pull her to her feet. She stood across from him, in the nightgown she wore the previous night. He smiled at her, holding her back at arm's length. His wife's belly caused the dress to appear shorter than it was, barley reaching her thighs. He fell to his knees then, his hands caressing her stomach. "I don't mind though," the child shifted and pressed its foot against his hand that rested against her side. "I love you, Rhea."

"I love you," Rhaenyra's hand went to Robb's auburn hair. She let her fingers tangle in the curls as Robb began to inch her small clothes higher and higher. They were interrupted by a knock.

"Are you decent?" Came Ned's voice, Robb sighed heavily. He grabbed a fur from the bed and wrapped it around Rhaenyra's shoulders. He let his arms rest on her waist.

"Yes, father." Ned entered the room, Domeric in his arms. Robb dropped his hands from his wife's waist and smiled brightly to his son. "My beautiful boy! How are you?" His arms reached for his child and Domeric eagerly pushed himself from his grandfather's arms.

Domeric smiled, his small teeth showing. "Dada!" His tiny fist tangled themselves into Robb's hair, Rhaenyra laughed behind them.

Ned coughed, "Yes he just wanted to say farewell to his father before he left for the hunt." Robb kissed Domeric's reddened cheek. "We must head downstairs, our horses are nearly ready." He nodded to his father and looked toward Rhaenyra, who held the furs tighter agianst her body.

"This is where I leave you, love, I will be back tomorrow evening. Hopefully with a stag in hand." Robb's free hand went to the back of her head, bringing her lips to his. "I will miss you and our son terribly." He handed Domeric to her, the small child began to knaw at his fist. "Don't give birth while I'm gone."

"No promises." She smiled and Robb, with his father, left the room.

Hours later, Rhaenyra sat against the window in the library, a large book in her hands. On the rug before her sat Rickon and his dire wolf, who both patiently waited for the next scene to unfold from the story. Domeric slept peacefully against his mother, Grey Wind on her other side. "And the mighty dragon king requested all the fallen swords to be brought to him, thrown at his feet. Thousands of swords from the battle were brought, some from the dead others from the dying. Aegon was pleased," Rhaenyra looked from the book down to Rickon who sat eagerly on the rug with Shaggy Dog. Domeric was nestled into her side, napping away the day's excitement. "His ambitions were becoming fulfilled, the swords were the proof. Once the blades were placed below him, he beckoned his dragon. Requesting his breath," she leaned closer to her good brother out of her seat, Rickon leaned forward. "Balerion blew his fire upon the swords. All melted together, the Iron Throne was forged. The Throne in which Aegon and his descendants would sit upon for hundreds of years, the Throne that is the product of Fire and Blood." Rhaenyra's voice faded and Rickon stood up in his spot.

His curls jumped as he did, "I must see it! I have to Rhea. Do you think it's sharp? I am jealous Bran and Arya and Sansa get to see it. Why can't I?" His blue eyes looked to her, the same blue eyes her son had. Shaggy Dog stood abruptly, startled at his master's frustration.

"You need to be with Domeric and me, little Lord." She tried to stand, her hand pushing herself from her seat against the window sill. Grey Wind jumped as she stood. "And for your new niece or nephew, who will be here in a day's time." Rickon crossed his arms over his chest and Rhaenyra waddled to him, "Do not mope," she placed a hand on his head. "You will see it eventually, I promise." Rickon opened his arms to hug her the best he could. His short arms barely reached her waist, his cheek pressed against her belly. Rhaenyra leaned forward, her arms wrapping around him.

The moment was interrupted by shouts from outside the library door, Rhaenyra let her arms fall off her good brother. She lifted her skirts and walked to the entrance of the room, a frantic looking Ser Rodrick glanced at her. In his arms laid a lifeless Bran. A hand went to her mouth as she held in a scream. "Stay here," she spoke to both Rickon and the wolves. Numbness overcame her as she got closer to the knight and boy. "Let me, let me get his bed ready." She quickly walked down the hall, turning sharply as she reached the children's wing. Rhaenyra shook as she opened Bran's door. She pushed all the pillows to the floor and called for Rodrick. Maester Luwin entered, followed by the knight and Catelyn. Her mother in law's face showed no emotion.

"A fall," Maester Luwin whispered to the room, Rodrick laid Bran on the bed. "He has never fallen before." He began to examine the boy, looking to the other three in the room. "I am going to cheek him for any breaks, I advise you to leave." Rhaenyra nodded and looked to Catelyn, whose gaze never left her son. She offered the woman her arm, she reluctantly took it.

Rhaenyra guided her good mother out the door, closing it behind them. Catelyn looked to the wall and began to mutter prayers. Rhaenyra looked to her, her hand reaching for Catelyn who's muttering increased. It abruptly stopped, "He never listens," a crack broke her voice as tears gathered in her eyes. "He never listens." Catelyn gripped her hand back, the tears began to flow.


	8. Chapter 8

Rhaenyra sat across from Catelyn in Bran's room, her hands weaving together a prayer wheel. She numbly let her fingers twine together the twigs. Her eyes would occasionally glance to the child on the bed, staring for too long, trying to see his small chest move up and down. Rhaenyra sighed as she looked up to see Catelyn, the woman had not left her seat for hours. She only left the room to gather what they needed to craft and demanded Rhaenyra stay so her son would not be alone.

Shouts could be heard from the hallway, Rhaenyra turned her head to the open door. Her ears then picked up the voices of her husband and his father questioning Maester Luwin. She looked towards Catelyn, she did not lift her head from the prayer wheel.

"Bran," softly spoke Ned from the doorway. Rhaenyra's fingers stopped weaving, her eyes finally leaving her good mother to glance back at Ned. He walked toward the bed, he sat its foot alongside the large dire wolf that refused to leave her master. "He never falls." His voice faded as he spoke. Rhaenyra turned toward the doorway where her husband stood. His blue eyes not meeting hers, never leaving his brother's sleeping form. Rhaenyra pushed herself from her chair, gripping the bed for support. She placed a hand against her belly and turned to Bran, she pushed his hair from his face and placed a kiss against his forehead.

Rhaenyra walked towards her husband, grabbing his hand as she passed him. Robb continued to stare at his brother. She left them, letting them grieve over Bran's state. She slowly walked down the hallway towards her room, she gripped the wall slightly as she did. She reached her opened door, seeing Septa Mordane bouncing Domeric on the bed. Rhaenyra smiled at the sight.

"Look, little Lord, your Lady mother is her," happily exclaimed the septa. "How is he?" Her tone changed quickly.

Rhaenyra sat on the bed beside her son, who gnawed at his fist with red cheeks. She sighed heavily, "We just have to wait until he wakes." She gave a shattered breath. "You may go, many thanks for your help this day." She gave a heavy nod as the woman left. Domeric then grabbed her long hair with his wet hands, she pulled him to her and kissed his cheek. She laid on her side, bringing him close to her chest, his hands still tangled in her hair. Her hands went to his ever-growing hair, trying to tame the mess of curls. She let her eyes close as her son began to squeal to himself. There was a knock at the entrance to her room, it was Jon.

"Rhea?" Her eyes opened, she lifted her head slightly to look past her son. Her violet eyes met Jon's saddened gaze. "What happened? All they told me," he paused, looking down to the floor. "They told me Bran fell, not if he was alive. Nothing." Rhaenyra sat up, Domeric releasing her hair. He pulled himself from her embrace to slide off the bed. He waddled to his uncle and held his small arms up. Jon simply picked up the boy.

"He is not dead," her voice was a whisper. "Maester Luwin concluded he is merely in a deep sleep. We have to be patient, he will wake soon. I know it." She pushed her hair over her shoulder, sighing as she moved slightly on the bed. "Sit with me." Jon nodded, positioning Domeric properly in his hold. The young boy sat facing his uncle, smiling and beautifully ignorant to the horror going around him. Jon held his small hand in his own, he sadly smiled back. "He looks just like Robb doesn't he?"

Jon nodded, "I always tell people Robb gave birth." He laughed lightly, his eyes finally met her's. "Not a speck of you in him." Rhaenyra gently pushed his shoulder.

"Don't say that I think he has my nose." Her finger tapped her son's small nose, he responded with a giggle. "I can't wait to see what this one looks like, maybe it will look like me. I am doing all the work, after all, I would like some credit in the child." Jon placed his nephew on the bed, the child immediately went to the pillows above where he nestled into.

Jon nodded and looked toward his hands, he began to fidget with his gloves. "I need to tell you something." Rhaenyra hummed her response and fell back on the bed, "I am to take the black." Her eyes widened.

"What?!" She nearly screamed. "Jon we are so sensitive at the moment, Bran could die any second. You are thinking irrationally." She sat up beside him once again.

Jon sighed, "I thought about before, I just needed to tell someone."

"And so you told me? Your overly pregnant sister by law!" Her hands went to his cloak, to pull herself up further. "Help me up I wish to leave."

"Rhae-"

"Help me up." Her eyes bore into his, Jon stood and gripped her forearms. She stood wobbly and headed to retrieve the drowsy Domeric. "I do not know what to say. The Night's Watch is useless Jon and you know this." She shifted her son in her arms, "I understand you, Starks, always wanting to prove your honor but Jon. You will die at the block of ice and I cannot support that," Rhaenyra walked away holding her child.

She found calmness in the godswood, sitting in front of the bleeding heart tree of the Old Gods. Rhaenyra sat murmuring silent prayers to the Old Gods. She wrung her hands as she began to pray for her family, the dead. "Domeric do not touch the pond," her eyes snapped open to see her child examining the water that waved near the Weirwood tree. His blue eyes brightened at her attention he quickly ran to her, he fell to the ground near her feet and smiled. Rhaenyra smiled and let her hand fall to his head. She closed her eyes once more as she felt Domeric mess with the hem of her skirts.

Her eyes opened immediately as her son screamed, "Dada!" He continued to fiddle with her dress, his eyes following his father as he entered the godswood. Robb's gaze met Rhaenyra's, her shoulders fell as she saw the glaze of his eyes. He quickly averted his eyes from hers and continued to silently walk towards her. "Dada," Domeric cried again. He wobbly stood as his father was a foot away. Robb made no comment.

"How are you?'' Rhaenyra calmly asked as Robb sat beside her on the decaying tree trunk. He did not speak, just grabbed her hand in his own. The leather was cool against her skin as she intertwined their fingers.

Robb gave a small sigh, "My brother is dying."

"He is not."

"He is. You saw how he looks, barely breathing. My poor mother is," he let go of her hand. "What am I going to do when father is gone?" His elbows dug into his knees, the palms of his hands pushing his hair. Rhaenyra began to pray again, as she saw his breath quicken. "I worry so much for," he lifted his head to face her. "I worry for when the time comes and we will be Lord and Lady."

Rhaenyra placed her hand on his thigh, "We endure the hardships together." Robb placed his hand over hers and looked down to Domeric who was examining the black stitch work on his mother's dress. "Do you want us to go? So you may pray?" Robb shook his head, his eyes finally meeting her gaze.

"I need you."

That night, Robb's head laid on Rhaenyra's chest, both trying and failing to fall asleep. Domeric laid on his cot in front of their bed with Grey Wind nestled against his tiny body, taking up most of the small bed. Rhaenyra's thin fingers lightly pulled at Robb's curls, her favorite thing to do. I wish he didn't cut his hair, she thought. The light of a single candle dimly lit the room and illuminated the closest wall allowing her to see her husband's opened eyes. His mind still flowed with worry.

"What if he wakes and we're all asleep? I should be wi-"

"Your mother is there and you know it." Her fingers continued to soothe his scalp. Robb pushed his head further in her chest, trying to find comfort. "Gods," she hissed, "Your son is moving again." Robb pushed himself off of her, Rhaenyra sat up gripping her stomach. "He is going to become too large for my body soon." Robb lazily laid on his side, hand propping his head. She grabbed his free hand to press it against her lower stomach to feel their child's head shift. "I feel him, it is so odd." Rhaenyra giggled and moved his hand higher to feel a different movement.

"Domeric never moved so much," he sat up with her and glanced at his sleeping son. "But Domeric is a lazy lad sometimes." Robb leaned closer to her, their lips nearly touching. "I love you." Their lips met, Rhaenyra smiled into it.

"I love you," it was a sweet kiss, a contrast of their heated and needy kisses. She adored it. Rhaenyra placed her hand on the back of his neck, forcing his mouth against hers once again. Robb deeply moaned as her hands went to his drawers, pushing them down slightly. He buried his face against her neck as he successfully pulled them down. Rhaenyra's hand cradled the back of his head as his lips reached her jaw. Robb gently pulled her atop him but was stopped by a bark. 

The two were further interrupted as Grey Wind jumped from his spot beside Domeric. The child did not move, even as the large wolf began to whimper at the door. Robb sighed annoyed as he pushed himself off the bed to let the wolf leave the room. "Out with you, silly wolf," he whispered. Robb pulled the door open, he quickly closed the door and turned to his wife. His face red.

"Robb? Rhea?" Rhaenyra heard Rickon sweetly question from the other side of the door. She giggled and began to search for Robb's discarded underwear in the sheets. "Robb why were you naked? It's too late for a bath.'' She threw his discarded clothing to him. Grey Wind continued to scratch at the door, adding to the small amount of chaos. Robb finally was descent and opened the door for his young brother and dire wolf. Shaggy Dog trailed in behind his young master, growling at Grey Wind who excitedly jumped at their arrival. Rickon pulled on his night dress, rubbing his eyes. "May I sleep with you?"

Rhaenyra moved from her spot on the bed and placed a pillow beside her, "Of course." She patted the spot beside her.

"Mother and father are still awake," Rickon murmured as he pulled himself on the bed. She looked to Robb, who sadly glanced back. Rickon nestled into the pillow beside his good sister and called for Shaggy Dog, the dire wolf jumped to the foot of the bed to watch over him. Rhaenyra quickly pushed her feet under the blankets in fear of the wolf's nips. Robb laid on the opposite side of his brother and reached over him to grab his wife's hand.


	9. Chapter 9

Rickon gripped Rhaeyra's hand as the two walked together to bid farewell to the Starks departing for the Wall and the Capital. They were heading to the courtyard, to give their blessings and goodbyes. He smiled up to her, "I hope Sansa and Arya bring me back a sword. Something spectacular from the capital." Rhaenyra laughed.

"A toy perhaps." She playfully squeezed his hand.

The courtyard was bustling, servants scattered preparing horses and carriages for the royal family and Starks to depart. Amongst the life Rhaenyra spotted Robb, holding Domeric high in his arms, speaking to Jon.

Rhaenyra let go of Rickon's hand, "I see your father," she pointed to Ned who was speaking to Ser Rodrick. "Go bid him farewell and many blessings, I will be over soon." The small boy nodded and expertly ran through the towering people to his father. Rhaenyra watched as Ned's face brightened and he knelt to embrace his child. She turned and began to walk toward her husband and his bastard brother.

"It's always been my color," she heard Jon say as she finally approached. "Rhea." His eyes met hers, filled with a hurt look.

"Jon, I have come to say goodbye." She turned to Robb, he nodded and smiled to his child as he walked away to see his sisters. "You were serious." Her hands went to her stomach, trying to ease her nerves.

Jon nodded, "Yes.'' Came the whisper of his voice. Rhaenyra sighed and reached into the pocket of her cloak to retrieve a small silver object.

"You and I both know I do not support your choice. But," she reached for his hand, placing the item in his palm. "But you are my brother in all but blood. You adore my son and my husband. I deny Lady Stark's treatment toward you, I hate it." Jon opened his hand to see the silver dire wolf figure she had made immediately following their dispute. "You may not have our name, but you are of our blood." Jon held the figure to his eyes, seeing the ruby eyes and white gold encrusted into the small sculpture. "I prayed every day for your protection, and will pray." Jon looked back to her and wrapped his arms around her, mindful of her belly.

Jon kissed her head, "Stay well sister. I will write when I can." They let their arms fall from each other. Rhaenyra walked away, to rejoin her husband.

Sansa held Domeric against her person, tears nearly falling from her blue eyes. "I want to take him." Robb laughed at the sight of his younger sister. Arya, who stood beside him, rolled her eyes.

"You can't take my heir," he jokingly said to her. Rhaenyra walked beside him, pulling Arya to her. 

"Were you trying to leave without a goodbye dear girl?" Arya laughed as her good sister blew against her cheek. "Give them hell down there." Arya nodded before running to Jon, who continued to ready his horse. She turned to Sansa, who reluctantly placed Domeric on the floor. The small boy stood near his young aunt, refusing to leave her side. "Your grace," Rhaenyra nodded her head to Sansa. "Next time we meet you might be queen." Sansa nodded, looking to the floor with a blush. She looked back to her good sister and ran, throwing her arms over her neck.

"I will miss you, my sister." 

Rhaenyra and Robb isolated themselves following the departure. The worry-filled Winterfell immediately began to question their abilities following Ned Stark's exit. It was too overwhelming. Rickon joined them in their solitude, wanting to enjoy their company without the bothersome nonsense of the castle. The members of the Stark family sat together in Robb and Rhaenyra's quarters, the door closed in attempts to ignore the bustle outside. 

"House Greyjoy?''

"What is dead may never die,'' said Rickon from his place in front of the fire.

"Wrong!'' Laughed Robb, he sat besides Rhaenyra on the bed. He scratched Grey Wind's belly, the wolf's leg moved quickly with each scratch. Rhaenyra ate apples on her side, occasionally handing Domeric one for his painful cutting teeth. "It is We Do Not Sow. How about,'' he looked to Rhaenyra wickedly before saying, "The Boltons?" She shook her head as she cut another slice of her apple.

"Oh! Our blades are sharp, that's Rhea's house." He smiled at her, she lifted her brows at his excitement.

"I am a wolf like you, no longer a Bolton." She said quietly.

"Then your words are winter is coming?" She nodded. He got up from his seat, the dire wolf that slept silently in the corner lifted its head. "I want to see mother, here Shaggy Dog." Rhaenyra's eyes followed him as he left the room.

Robb stopped petting Grey Wind, his expression returning to that of a saddened man as his false mask disappeared. He turned to his wife, "How are you feeling?"

"I feel I need to push your son out myself and not wait for him." He laughed slightly as he saw her lack of expression. "I do hope he is born soon," she stood from the bed to walk toward the dresser to retrieve a glass of water for her son. As she waddled, the pain in her back ceased. She sighed in thanks. Pouring the glass, she took a sip before pouring more water into the glass.

"Rhaenyra?'' She hummed her response, "Did," She looked to Robb whose face was red. "Did you?" He looked to the floor, water laid on the floor in a trickle pattern. Rhaenyra looked to the water, shocked. She did not pay mind to Robb's gaze as she lifted her layers of skirts, being greeted by her drenched thighs.

"The gods are truly good," her eyes looked back to her husband. "Get the maester. Your son is to be born."


	10. Chapter 10

Robb sat on the ground outside his room, his son beside him with one of Arya's dolls. He chewed on its hair, trying to relieve his mouth's pain. Theon stood across from them, arms crossed as the three listened to Rhaenyra's occasional cries from the bedroom. Maester Luwin would pass them every hour to check her progress. Robb was not allowed in the room, no one but Septa Mordane was allowed. His mother remained at Bran's side refusing to leave him even during this time.

"You thought she pissed?'' Robb brought Domeric closer to him, scowling at Theon for his words.

"Yes," he whispered. Theon erupted into his obnoxious laugh. Domeric's blue eyes looked up to the ward.

Theon glanced down to the child, "Yes little lord a shame your father is ignorant when it comes to childbearing.'' Domeric smiled against the doll's hair, his drool now coated its blonde hair making it a dark brown.

Robb's nails dug into the warm stone as Rhaenyra's scream tore through the castle. "I should be in there."

"And be so scared to ever touch her after seeing what you've done? No, that is why I am here to stop you.'' Theon slide to the floor, "Can't have you not populating the North."

Robb closed his eyes as curse words could be heard from the bedroom. At that moment he was grateful he was not present for Domeric's birth, he hated himself for the pain he put his wife in.

The door opened and a flustered midwife let her head peek out the door, "Get the Maester, she needs to push." Rhaenyra's groans could be heard even more.

Theon stood from the floor and ran down the hall, leaving Robb alone in his loathing state. He looked down toward his son, the child looked back. My eyes, Robb thought. He pulled Domeric on his lap and smiled only to think about what his next child would look like. Hopefully like their mother, he joked. Robb did know Domeric looked exactly like him, the young child was nearly his exact copy according to his mother. He wondered why the gods decided so. However, his vanity always stopped his questioning.

"Dada," came the sweet word he never grew tired of hearing. Domeric's small hand reached forward to scratch against his father's barley growing beard. "Hurts,'' he said, pulling his chubby palm from Robb's cheek. Robb turned sloppily kissed his cheek. A screech erupted from his son.

In the bedroom, Rhaenyra repositioned herself on all fours. Another contraction erupted through her lower back and abdomen, causing a profanity to rip through the room. She opened her eyes, sweat burning her as she looked to see the midwife's face become flustered. "Where's the fucking Maester?" She gritted her teeth, the need to push becoming more difficult to disobey.

"On his way," the midwife knelt in front of her, bringing a cool cloth to her forehead. It didn't help.

Rhaenyra slapped her hand away, "Why can't you just pull him from me?"

"Do you see healing leeks on my dress?" Rhaenyra's eyes bore into her's, pure hatred clouded her gaze. "No."

Rhaenyra pushed herself from her knees to lay against the bed's pillows. She lifted her legs to her chest, not willing to wait for the Maester any longer. "I am just going to start."

"Don't you dare. Rhaenyra!" The two were interrupted by Theon Greyjoy opening the door, beside him Maester Luwin.

"My lady," his face paled. Theon's eyes were glued to the part of Rhaenyra's body that lovingly crowned her child's head. He quickly turned and left the room, leaving Maester Luwin as he went.

"That ought to scare him away from the whore house for a few days. Now, Lady Stark, are you ready." She nodded and anxiously waited for him to fall to the foot of the bed to begin.

Rhaenyra's cries could be heard still in the hallway, they echoed in Robb's mind as he prayed to his Gods. He begged them to keep her alive, begged them to keep her strong, and asked them to bless his child's life. There was a sudden screech of his name. He looked to Theon, whose face was still white with fear. Robb stood, giving the ward his son. Theon oddly held the child, his hands positioned oddly on Domeric's body. He went to the bedroom door.

"You are not to be here!'' Came the yell of the midwife, Robb ignored her exclaim and instead looked to the bed. His wife sat there, her legs pressed into her chest with glazed eyes. Tears and sweat mixed on her cheeks, she gave shattered breathes as their eyes met. Maester Luwin ignored his entrance.

"Robb," she sobbed. She clutched the midwife's hand, her free one reached out to her husband. Robb ignored the older woman's glares and proceeded to run to his wife. He held her hand and kissed her sweaty forehead. "I can't, he's stuck. He won't move any further."

"Yes, you can love, now come on. Breathe and push. Breathe and push." Rhaenyra heaved her upper body forward. She began to push again. "That's it, love," Robb looked down to see his child's head, then face, body, he was here. The beautiful blessing finally welcomed in the world, making his presence known with a loud cry. "Oh love there he is. He's beautiful." Robb kissed her head again, smiling as the Maester placed his son on his wife's chest. The small baby was beautifully filthy, both did not mind as they happily caressed him.

Rhaenyra smiled happily as the midwife pulled her child away to wash her new son. "It's Henry."

Robb's smile was equally ecstatic and wide, "It's Henry." He kissed her lips giddily, grateful for witnessing the birth of his son.

Moments later the sound of the tall tower's bells rang throughout Winterfell's walls. The same sound the bells made for each Stak child when they were born. Rhaenyra laid on her bed, patiently waiting for her husband to return with their son and Rickon. She wanted them to be the first to meet the new Lord. Lord Henry Stark was the beautiful child that suckled at her breast. His little hands occasionally hit her as he enjoyed his meal.

The child mirrored his brother in almost every way. Rhaenyra recalled Domeric's patchy red hair, his grey eyes he bore, and his small button nose. She bore a true Tully and Stark once again. Perhaps he will have my eyes, she thought, or something small of mine.

Henry moved his face away from her and placed his small cheek against her chest. He sighed, content with his meal. Rheanyra moved forward, placing her breast back in her shift. She settled Henry between her knees, examining the small child further.

"Rhea, we're here!" Rickon shouted from the doorway, she had not noticed it opened. Robb stood beside him, holding his small hand. His free arm wrapped around Domeric who curiously looked toward his mother on the bed.

"Shhh, Henry's asleep." Rickon ignored his brother's remark and jumped to the bed beside his good sister.

Rhaenyra gave a small laugh, "He's just finished eating. You are not interrupting any sleep." Rickon looked oddly to the child in front of them.

"He is so small, was Domeric that small? Was I?" Robb walked toward the bed, sitting on the opposite side of his wife. He placed Domeric close to his brother, allowing him to see the baby.

Robb answered, "Domeric was small, not you. You were the size of Shaggy dog when you were born." He smiled at his brother who laughed at the comment.

"No, that is too big." He whispered, eyes never leaving his small nephew. Domeric, who curiously examined his brother crawled closer to him. His chubby hand gently tapped the baby's small head, hoping to get a reaction. A small murmur was returned.

Rhaenyra inched forward, hoping to whisper to her son. "This is your brother, Domeric. Henry, say hello sweet boy." Her son looked down at his brother, his blue eyes looking over him.

"Hello,'' Domeric's spoke. He fell to his stomach, laying on his side hoping to further look at his brother. "A baby, Mama!" A smile broke on his face.

Rhaenyra nodded, she leaned back, her gaze met her husband's. He lovingly wrapped his arm around her waist, his fingers spreading over her side. She turned to kiss his cheek, perfectly content with the moment.


	11. Chapter 11

Rhaenyra soothed her crying child, the boy had not stopped since Domeric slapped his head early that evening. The sun was still out then. She bounced Henry in her arms as he wailed, tears stopped flowing from his grey eyes. Rhaenyra did not take notice to her young brother in law sulking alongside his dire wolf at the foot of her bed.

Rickon's blue eyes were clouded in tears. He watched his good sister care for her son, his chin digging into the covers of the bed. Occasionally he would attempt to get her attention with the small whisper of, "Rhea."

Rhaenyra sighed as Henry finally calmed his screams. The child was days old and had already made his presence known with his voice. She lifted her gaze from her son to see the saddened Rickon. "Little Lord, what is wrong?" He whipped his cheeks with the back of his hands and crawled to the free space bedside her.

Rhaenyra lifted her free arm for him to cuddle beside her. "Mother hates me." She looked down to the boy with a questioning look. "She just pays attention to Bran. He's not even awake." His tears fell as his good sister placed a kiss on his head.

"You will always have Robb and me to turn to. No need to cry." She gently rubbed his back and whispered, "It is alright." Rickon shook with each sob, his tiny shoulders heaved as he attempted to breathe. Rhaenyra continued to calmly rub his back as he cried. There is only so much stress a child can endure, she thought. She let the child cry knowing it is what he needed.

She heard the sound of boots hitting the castle floors, she paid no mind. Rhaenyra simply focused on soothing her brother in law and son. Her gaze lifted from Rickon to see Robb standing in the doorway, anger evident on his features. Rickon continued sobbing, it only increased at the sight of his brother. He left Rhaenyra's side to quickly run to Robb, arms out for a hug. Robb dropped to his knees and held his brother.

"It's alright," he whispered. Robb kissed his youngest brother's head and lifted him only to place him back on the bed. "You will sleep with us tonight," Rickon's cries softened. Robb let his hand slide across the boy's untamable curls, looking to Rhaenyra as he did. "Domeric is eating with old Nan."

"Poor child," she gave a sad smile. Robb left the room, she knew where he was going, to scream at his mother about his poor brother's state. Rhaenyra sighed as she placed Henry on the bed, hoping Rickon would find enjoyment in playing with the baby. He pushed himself to his stomach and watched his small nephew gurgle and coo. Rickon's tears dried against his red cheeks, staining them. He nestled himself further into Rhaenyra's side. "He will sleep soon and you should change for bed. Go get one of Robb's nightshirts."

Rickon nodded and slowly walked to the dresser in the corner. He searched through the drawers, pulling various shirts for himself. "They are all so big." Rhaenyra laughed from the bed, her eyes never leaving Henry.

"Yes, well. It is more comfortable that way." Rickon ran to her, a small smile spread across his face. He sat before her with a pale blue nightshirt in hand. Rhaenyra rolled her eyes as he simply put it over his clothes. "No little lord,'' Rickon giggled at her false annoyance. She helped him undress and pushed the blue shirt over his head. "There we are." Rickon stood on the bed, mindful of his nephew, and bounced on the pillows.

He sighed as he watched his good sister admire her son. He sat up abruptly, "Here Shaggy Dog." The wolf lifted his head from his spot on the floor at his master's smooth voice. The large dire wolf jumped to the bed, to protectively lay beside Rickon. "Goodnight Rhea, goodnight Henry.''

"Goodnight, Little Lord." Rhaenyra lifted her child from the bed, bringing him to her chest. She fell beside Rickon and Shaggy Dog in pure contentment. She closed her eyes, waiting for her husband to return from wherever he was. Her ears picked up the sound of boots echoing in the hall, she felt relaxed at the sound. "Love thank gods,'' she opened her eyes to see a man standing in the doorway. She clutched Henry closer to her chest as Shaggy Dog began to lowly growl.

"Is that Brandon Stark?'' His filthy voice questioned. Rhaenyra shook her head, hoping Rickon would not pay attention to what was occurring. Her free hand slowly reached under her pillow. She could feel the smooth blade of her dagger. "Where is he?" She shrugged. The man disappeared.

Rhaenyra sat up in the bed, a hand gripping her child while the other reached for her dagger. "Rickon, get up." He opened his eyes, glaring at her. "Let's go, come." She easily pushed herself from the bed, calling for Shaggy Dog to follow as they left. Rhaenyra ignored the soreness of her legs and belly as she walked. The two quickly ran to find Domeric. Her mind raced, wondering who the man was. She feared he was an assassin, paid to murder her family. Rhaenyra shakily sighed as they finally descended the stairs, the floors were empty. She feared the worst.

"Rhea you're too fast," she heard Rickon complain. Rhaenyra ignored him, she looked down to see if he was following and continued to walk to find her child. The castle was never empty, the halls, the grand hall especially. Everything lacked its typical life and bustle. A frightening sight. "Where is everyone?" Rickon whispered as they stood alone in the darkened grand hall. Rhaenyra did not answer, she looked around.

"I don't know little lord,'' her ears noted the sound of a child crying. Domeric. "Rickon," she knelt to the ground. "Sit here, and hold Henry for me. Do not let anyone take him alright. I will be right back." Rickon did as he was told, holding his nephew by the arms on the floor. Rhaenyra followed the child's cries, they lead her to the kitchen. In her hand, she gripped her thin dagger. She was grateful to be barefoot, no one would hear her walking behind them.

She found a young woman soothing her child, her back turned. A sight she never wanted to see. She walked on the hay that littered the floor, not caring of what laid beneath. Rhaenyra lifted her dagger gracefully to embed it into the side of the woman's neck. She forced her against the nearest wall, a cry coming from both the woman and Domeric. "Who are you?'' She questioned as the woman began to cry. "Who are you?''

"I can't say," came the soft whisper.

"Are you with him?'' More cries. "Are you with him?" A nod, Rhaenyra did not need to move her dagger for blood to seep from her neck. "What did you plan to do with my son? Take him? Kill him? Leave him in the forest for the wolves?'' Rhaenyra rolled her eyes as the woman began to whimper, she was in pain from the cut on her neck. A small nick. "Answer me.''

The woman burrowed herself into the wall. "We were asked to," Rhaenyra pushed the dagger deeper. "We were asked to kill him off the castle grounds. Your heirs need to suffer.''

"Put him on the floor,'' she did as told. "You do know my true house," the woman's eyes looked to her, fright encased them. "Yes, you do. You should be flayed for this. You and your confidant." Rhaenyra let her dagger skid across the woman's neck, not deep enough for a kill. The woman fell to the floor, Rhaenyra watched her grip her neck tightly.


	12. Chapter 12

"Light them," Rhaenyra told Theon as the two stood outside the castle walls. No other member of House Stark was willing to watch as she lovingly lit the flayed bodies.

Theon nodded, walking to the skinned corpses and bringing his torch to the hay that laid below. "Our enemies must know what will happen if we are betrayed." He looked toward Rhaenyra, who held Henry close to her chest.

"No, they need to remember what happens when they betray my family." She could smell the burning flesh, the soothing smell made her shoulders drop in ease. "Shall we join the others,'' the ward nodded to her as a small smile danced on his lips. They walked in silence back to the keep, the only noise being the rustle of their cloaks and Henry's gurgles of contentment.

Rhaenyra gripped her child tightly as they finally entered the castle, she ignored the glares of the servants as she and Theon began to ascend the stairs. But she knew they were staring.

"Will you take Henry to Robb?'' she questioned as they walked closer to Bran's room. She needed to see Catelyn, her son would overwhelm her good mother. Theon nodded, awkwardly reaching for the baby.

"He will be in the grand hall with his father and brother if you need him,'' the ward adjusted the heavy furs the baby was in and disappeared to the nearest stairwell. Rhaenyra turned away from the two and proceeded her short walk to Bran's room.

Catelyn remained in her familiar spot, her head placed in her bandaged hands. Rhaenyra sighed and walked to a dresser that was placed against the nearest wall. She found bandages, well-ripped clothing. Catelyn needed to see a maester again or the wounds would become infected.

"Let me see," the woman looked up to her. "I flayed him, for Bran and his little friend he brought for my son.'' Rhaenyra tugged Catelyn's hand and began to peel the dirty rags from them. She noted the skin remained pink and lacked any signs of infections. "I heard our little dire wolf over there slaughtered him. Ripped his vein straight out.'' Her violet eyes glanced at the wolf that laid close to the bed.

Catelyn nodded, "How is Domeric?'' It was the first time she had mentioned her grandson in nearly a month. "After hearing he,'' she paused. "After hearing that woman was going to kill him, I feared the worse.''

"He is well, ignorant of the horror that took place last night." She began to turn the bandage over her good mother's palm. "Robb is, struggling," Rhaenyra noted. Catelyn lightly pulled her hand back at the mention of him. "He did not sleep till dawn, for only an hour."

Catelyn winced as Rhaenyra pulled the other bandage from her opposite hand, it resisted slightly as it was stuck on dried bits of blood. She glared at the younger woman who sat so calmly on the bed.

"He will wake," the violet eyes turned to the sleeping boy on the bed. "I know it, I feel it.''

Catelyn joined Rhaenyra in gazing upon Bran. Her heartbreaking over the state of her child. She gave a shattered breathe before speaking, "Rhaenyra?'' The young girl's eyes brightened.

"Yes?" the excited response came.

"I must share something with you." 

The next morning at the first of sunlight, freezing sunlight, Rhaenyra was gathered outside in the godswood with her family. The cold was nearly unbearable, icy breathe clouded above the huddle of Starks. Rhaenyra needed to be there, to dictate the wolf's rage. Her hands tightened around Henry, waiting for Catelyn to begin speaking. Next to her stood Robb who held Domeric's hand, the child refused to be held. Their son shifted his feet beside his father and curiously watched his grandmother. He had not seen her in weeks. Theon stood beside the two, trying to get the young Lord's attention by gently pulling his hair. Domeric would try to slap his fingers away.

"Cat,'' spoke Rhaenyra. She covered her son further with the heavy furs as her violet eyes met Catelyn's. She did not pay mind to the other's staring at her as she motioned for her mother in law to speak.

Catelyn nodded, "Yes.'' She looked down and held her hands close to her chest. "What I am about to tell you must remain between us." She saw the interested expressions of the men around her, "I don't think Bran fell from that tower." She paused, gathering her strength to continue. "I think he was thrown," Maester Luwin murmured something to Ser Rodrick.

Rhaenyra saw her husband tense at his mother's words. "Someone tried to kill him twice," she whispered. Catelyn nodded at her words. Robb abruptly turned to her, anger slowly taking over. "But why?"

Catelyn stood straighter, "Why murder a child? He must have seen something he was not meant to." Theon's gloved hand went to his sword's hilt, his eyes becoming enraged as realization struck him.

"So what my lady?'' He interrupted Catelyn who shook her head at his question, not knowing how to further their accusations.

She held her head high and said, "I don't know. But I would stake my life the Lannisters are involved."

Rhaenyra nodded, her nerves causing her hands to shakily shift over her son's blankets. "We already have reasons to question their loyalty to the crown." Her mind drifted to the Kingslayer as well as his father. Her stomach coiled at the thought of the lions.

"What of the dagger," Ser Rodrick looked between the Stark women.

Rhaenyra adjusted her child into one arm and reached into her cloak. She pulled the said dagger from a pocket. "Valyrian steel, dragon bone handle.'' She handed it to Ser Rodrick who gripped it by its handle. "Too fine a weapon for that filth that walked into our home." Robb's eyes met hers, she avoided his gaze but it increased her vengeful desire.

"Someone must have given it to him," the knight commented.

"They come into our home," came the angered voice of Robb. "And try to murder my brother and son. If it's a war they want,"

He was interrupted by Theon's enthusiastic tone, "If it comes to that you know I'll stand behind you.

Rhaenyra annoyingly sighed, "Is there going to be a battle in the godswood?" She nearly screamed, "I will not let you die on what little truth we have."

"To easily words of war become acts of war," Maester Luwin agreed. "We don't know the truth yet, Lord Stark must be told at once." He looked toward Catelyn.

"I don't trust a raven to carry these words," she said.

Robb interrupted his mother, "I will ride to Kingslanding." Rhaenyra glared at him, her eyes burning into the back of his head but he did not notice his angered wife.

"There must always be a Stark in Winterfell," Catelyn disagreed as her eyes met Rhaenyra's glaring stare. "I will go myself."

"Mother you can't."

Rhaenyra walked forward, "We will go to the capital," she placed her free hand on Catelyn's shoulder.

"You will not," Robb gripped her shoulder to pull her back. "I hear the lions tried to murder my brother and you expect me to let you leave for a city filled with them." Rhaenyra looked to the hand on her shoulder, she looked up to him.

"Yes."

"No Rhaenyra," came Catelyn's voice. "You must stay." Rhaenyra jerked Robb's hand from her person and returned to his side. She stood further back, continuing to angrily stare.

"Let me accompany you," Ser Rodrick said. "Kingsroad can be a dangerous place for a woman alone." Catelyn nodded at him.

"What about Bran?" He questioned, picking up Domeric as he did.

"I have prayed to the seven for more than a month. Bran's life is in their hands now." Catelyn sighed, "I will leave tomorrow. You all may go." Rhaenyra nodded her head to her mother in law before stalking to the exit of the godswood. She looked to her child as she walked, the baby was asleep despite all around him. She despised his ability to sleep through arguments.

Rhaenyra ignored quick footsteps following her, she increased her pace. "Rhea!" She walked quicker, she nearly entered the castle walls before a hand gripped her forearm. She was turned quickly to face her husband, so quickly it startled Henry. She looked back to her husband with a disgusted look as she soothed her child.

"Where's Domeric?''

"My mother has him." His voice was monotone as he watched her. She gently bounced their son in her arms, a sour look on her face. "You don't have to be pissy,"

"Me? Pissy?!" She laughed obnoxiously as her eyes met his. "You are the one who has been avoiding coming to our bed. You are the one who insists on barley saying any words to me when you come and see our children." Rhaenyra walked closer to him. She could feel the warmth he was radiating, "And here you stand calling me pissy." She wanted to spit on him.

"I don't come back because I finish my duties to late, I go to sleep in Rickon's room."

"And if I ask Rickon will I find the truth?" Robb's face paled slightly. "Are you warming a whore's bed? Working on making a new Snow?" Rhaenyra spoke through gritted teeth, anger taking over her.

"No."

"Then what is it?'' The baby was wailing against her chest, her rage radiating onto him. Robb's eyes finally met hers.

"I don't want you to think me weak."

"So you take your distress out on my with harsh touches?" She pushed his shoulder roughly, he stumbled back only to fall roughly against the dewy grass. "You are on the verge of striking me," her violet eyes had shifted into an indigo color. Both her shoulders shook as she spoke. "I swear I will cut your ear off next time." Robb nodded. "You think acting as if you were King Robert would help me in thinking you not weak. Fool,'' she rocked her child strongly. She looked down to Henry who's small face reddened in fright. "I am your wife, you come to me when you feel as if you're failing." With that, Rhaenyra left.


	13. Chapter 13

"High in the halls of the kings who have gone," Rhaenyra sang as she rocked a drowsy Henry to sleep. Nestled in her side was Domeric, his head resting against her thighs. She gently ran a hand through his hair as her other handheld her baby. "Jenny would dance with her ghost." Domeric sighed from his spot against her attempting to cuddle further against her. "The ones she had lost and the ones she had found." Henry closed his light eyes finally falling asleep. Rhaenyra pushed herself from her place among the pillows to lay him in his nearby bassinet. She placed him down gently and let her finger trace his cheek softly.

"Mama," Rhaenyra turned to face Domeric, he lifted his head to curiously watch her. "What doing?" He carefully crawled over her to see his sleeping brother. "He sleeps a lot.'' His mother nodded and pulled him to her. She kissed his head, her nose being tickled by his mess of curls. Domeric giggled loudly as she did so.

"You need a haircut, my beautiful boy," Rhaenyra pushed his hair back from his forehead. Domeric cocked his head to the side as he smiled back to his mother.

"You!"

Rhaenyra gasped in false shock, a mischevious smile spread across Domeric's cheeks. She spread her fingers against his belly. He laughed loudly as she began to tickle him. Domeric fell back on the bed and Rhaenyra laughed along with him.

"Domeric," came a voice from the doorway. Both turned to see Robb who still wore his clothes from the day, clearly filthy. "Come, you have to go to your room." Domeric abruptly rose from his spot to nestle against his mother's chest. Rhaenyra rested her hand against the back of his head, he violet eyes met Robb''s. "Come on," Robb sighed.

Rhaenyra kissed her son's forehead, "Go on. I will wake you tomorrow. Goodnight, I love you."

"Love you." Domeric murmured before his father took him from his mother's embrace. Rhaenyra pulled a blanket over herself and waited for her husband to return. She pulled her knees to her chest and rested her chin against them. She pushed her hair over her shoulder, the dark locks contrasting against her pale skin. Rhaenyra brushed her fingers through the waves. I need a haircut, she thought. Her fingers began to twine between the waves as she began to braid. She reached to her nightstand to retrieve a loose piece of string to tie it off. Rhaenyra tied it as her eyes trailed to the door at the sound of footsteps. She rolled her eyes at the thought of speaking to Robb, who she was still upset with.

His eyes met hers, he closed their door. "I asked for a bath to be brought up." Robb pulled lifted the cloak off his shoulders only to toss it on the bed. "Are you pleased I'm here?" He began to shed his clothes, his eyes never leaving hers.

Rhaenyra shrugged, "May we speak?" She pulled his cloak to her, letting it rest against her body. He nodded as he sat on the bed beside her, in his breeches. "Just," she paused. "Tell me what is wrong." Her delicate hand reached for his, Robb gripped back.

"I have this constant feeling of," he lifted their hands to intertwine their fingers. "Dread."

"Because of Bran?"

"Not just that. Being acting Lord is more difficult than I anticipated." He sighed heavily, Rhaenyra sat up. She removed her hand from his to cress his face gently, her fingers scratching against his beard.

"I am here. I am your wife you must rely on me." She combed her fingers through his hair. "What else?"

"I have never been this angry before. I want to call the banners and put every Lannister's head on a spike. For Bran and Domeric."

"I will flay them for my son and brother." Robb laughed gently at her remark. He sat up with her, mischievously untying her braid. "Never suffer alone in your thoughts." Robb kissed her gently and rested his forehead against hers. "I love you."

"I love you, Rhea." He gently undid her braid, pulling her waves apart. Both were content at that moment.

Bran awoke that night. He had screamed for his brother and sister in law, cried for his mother, causing the two to run to his bedside. They were greeted with a crying child who softly whispered, "My legs." Rhaenyra cradled him as he cried, Robb ran to wake Maester Luwin. The chaos enveloped the night, none sleeping for more than an hour longer. Rhaenyra believed they needed to make attempts to bring joy to him. She and her family hastily walked down the hallway to Bran's quarters. He needed to see Henry, and Domeric, the children would brighten his day.

"Slow down," Rhaenyra laughed following a running Domeric. He was a few steps in front of his mother, a smile on his face. Behind the two walked Robb who held Henry bundled in furs.

"No!" He laughed loudly as he continued to run down the hall. The toddler reached the last door in the hallway, gripping its handle tightly he swung it open. He excitedly ran into the room as he screamed, "Bran!"

Robb laughed, "We come to rescue my poor brother from old Nan and now I do believe we will have to save him from our son." He adjusted Henry in his arms, pulling the furs from the baby's face. Henry contently watched his father, grey eyes tiredly gazing over his face.

"Domeric will cheer him up. Of course meeting, Henry will." She reached for her child, bringing him softly to her chest. The baby closed his eyes at the scent of his mother. Robb stepped in front of the two to open the door. Rhaenyra shuttered at the sight of her brother in law laying motionless on his bed. Domeric sat near him, frightened to touch his uncle. She forced a smile as their eyes met. Bran returned the smile.

"What are you telling him now?" Robb smiled to Old Nan, who comfortably sat near Bran's bed.

"Only what the little lord wants to hear." She straightened her shoulders.

"You're dismissed, we want some time with him." As the old woman left, Rhaenyra slowly walked to the bed. She sat beside Domeric, lowering Henry to greet his uncle. She gently pushed the furs away from his face to proudly show his delicate face.

"Little Lord! I have the honor of introducing you to your nephew, Henry." Bran's eyes brightened at the sight of the child. He attempted to push himself against the pillows, failing to do so. He gave an angry sigh. Robb rushed to his side and offered his arm, Bran successfully pulled himself into a sitting position.

"He looks like Domeric," his hand reached to cress his nephew. The baby's eyes opened at his touch. "Hi, Henry." he smiled to the child, happy to finally meet his anticipated nephew. "Can I hold him?" With shaky hands, Rhaenyra placed Henry on his lap. Bran held the child's head in his hands against the furs. "Is it bad I love him already? I loved Domeric immediately, I feel the same for Henry.''

Robb laughed lightly, "No, our children have that effect on people." Robb sat beside his brother, his hand resting against his sword. "How do you feel? You still don't remember anything?" Rhaenyra curiously watched her good brother tense under their gaze. He shook his head. "Bran, I've seen you climb a thousand times. In the wind, in the rain," he paused, his eyes becoming a mix of anger and sadness as he spoke. "A thousand times, you never fall.''

"I did though,'' came the soft interruption. Bran's soft eyes turned from his brother to fall back to his nephew. "It's true, isn't it? What Maester Luwin says about my legs?" He waited for Robb to answer, he turned away.

"Yes," Rhaenyra whispered. She calmly reached to cress Bran's hair, attempting to soothe him in any way.

"I'd rather be dead."

"Don't say that.'' Rhaenyra nearly screamed at him.

Robb angrily spoke alongside her, "Don't ever say that."

"I'd rather bed dead."


	14. Chapter 14

Rhaenyra rolled her eyes as her new maid struggled to tie her corset. The older woman's fingers shook with each tightening of the strings. She finally grasped the two thing strings and pulled. Rhaenyra heaved as she did. The woman then helped her into her dress, a deep Bolton red gown. She needed to look decent. It was her first day as acting Lady of Winterfell, she was to hear the small folks worries and Lord's complaints. Maybe I'll see my father, she hopefully thought.

Rhaenyra was pulled from her thoughts as her maid led her to her bed. She said softly as the woman began placing her shoes on, besides her laid her choice of jewelry. She reached for her dire wolf ring and placed it on her left ring finger. Then she chose her obsidian ring, her most cherished possession. Her maid finished tying her boots and moved to place a necklace on her neck. She clasped a ruby chocker on Rhaenyra's neck, she slowly reached to touch it. The maid then began to braid her hair only to be stopped. "I want it down." The woman's touch coiled away.

She stood from the bed, wordlessly dismissing the maid as she did. Rhaenyra then trecked down toward the grand hall, knowing she would find her children and Robb waiting for her arrival. She walked through the servant stairwell, attempting not to fall over her dress in the enclosed space. 

Rhaenyra pushed the door into the hallway opened to be greeted with a familiar laugh. "And what are you doing? Sneaking about.'' Robb's eyes met her's, as she turned emerged from the door.

"How?" her arms dropped as she exited the stairwell. "How do you always know where I am?'' 

"Part wolf love, have a good sniffer." He snorted his nose and wrapped his arms around her. She giggled as he kissed her head.

"Silly," she moved her face from his chest to kiss his lips. Robb giddily smiled into it, nipping her bottom lip as he did. "I was going this way because it is quicker, nothing to worry about." She patted his cheek and separated from his embrace. "I do hope you brought me a cloak I am freezing."

"I know a way to warm you," Robb wrapped his arms around her waist once again, the two waddled together down the hall. "Only takes a few moments." He began to lift her skirts in the front, exposing her pale, toned legs.

Rhaenyra pushed his arms away. "NO!" she laughed and turned to face him, "Let us go we're nearly late." She held her arm out for him, Robb gave a look of false annoyance and grabbed her hand.

"You never fall for my perversions."

"Boohoo."

The two reached the grand hall together, hand and hand they sat at the high table, ready to hear the northerner's complaints. Before them sat Theon, holding Henry in one arm rolling a ball with the other toward a laughing Domeric. "May I have my son?" the ward turned to Robb and shook his head.

"I am afraid he prefers me more. He is awake and content. All he does is cry when he's in your arms." Rhaenyra rolled her eyes and stood from her chair, she stalked to Theon.

"Give me my son," he held the child out. She brought him to her chest and looked back to the ward. "Go and get each of us cloaks. You know where they are." Theon stood from the floor and ran out of the hall, after muttering a small Yes Ma'm.

Rhaenyra held her hand out for Domeric to grasp, he did and held his new ball in the other. Robb sat in his chair, amused at his wife's demanding personality. "I am impressed.''

"With?''

"You, being Lady of Winterfell has changed you already." His family reached the high table, Domeric scrambled onto his lap and began to enthusiastically roll the ball against the table. It would slowly roll back to him and he would catch it with both of his small hands.

"Oh no. I did love being just the heir's wife. So passive and meek." Rhaenyra sat beside him with Henry.

Robb laughed, "Yes because you are so meek and passive.'' His wife laughed loudly with him. "When Domeric was a babe, you wanted to cut a man's ear off for scaring him.''

"I should have! Your father told me no,'' Rhaenyra sighed. "So I took a finger," Robb gave her a shocked expression. "I am kidding calm down.'' she only laughed more.

The two were interrupted by furs being shoved in front of them. Rhaenyra took a grey pelt from Theon's hand and placed it on her shoulders, warmth welcoming her. Robb took the black cloak and tossed it over his own, and wrapped Domeric in a smaller fur. The toddler rubbed furs and smiled at its softness. Rhaenyra wrapped Henry in another loose pelt, hoping the child would fall asleep during their work.

"I brought two lonely animals with me,'' Theon said as he nodded toward Grey Wind, who lovingly sat against his Master's feet. Theon then tossed Fat onto the table before them, the cat luckily landed on his feet before the family. He hissed back to the ward and sat reluctantly.

Rhaenyra smiled, "Thank you, did you steal him from Rickon?'' Theon nodded before stepping down from the high platform. He stood off to Robb's side, his hand resting against his sword's hilt. He joined in their waiting, standing tall and proud before Rhaenyra interrupted his prideful silence. "Theon,'' he turned. "Go let them in."

"Oh, right." He nervously ran to the front of the hall and pushed the door forward. A small amount of small folk entered the hall, Maester Luwin at their helm. He took charge in arranging them in a line of issue importance, then went to stand beside Rhaenyra.

The complaints of the small folk varied and were overly boring. Many requested the noble grain, Robb would abide. Others would ask Rhaenyra for furs for the cold months, she would mutter yes. Her interest would peak when any would mutter, Ma Lady. Few congratulated her on another successful birth, many scowled at the Bolton broach pinning her cloak together.

"I am falling asleep," she rested her chin against her fist, her elbow digging into her elegant chair's arm. "I envy our children." Rhaenyra looked to Domeric, whose face was hidden against Robb's tunic, then to Henry in her arms. "Not having to hear the sadness of the people's lives."

Robb looked to Domeric, pushing the child's hair from his forehead. "That was barley our first group love, many more to go. Then we have a meeting, discussing a trip." Rhaenyra leaned forward at his words, noting the new visitors' entrance as he did.

"To where?"

"The Dreadfort." Both smiled at his comment. Rhaenyra had no desire to return to the keep, but it would be lovely to see her brother and father. She did wish to show Domeric the grounds she, herself, played amongst.

Robb abruptly turned from her as Maester Luwin tapped his arm, he whispered a few words. Rhaenyra could not hear. She saw her husband's expression darken quickly as he nodded to the Maester, Theon then escorted the small folk out of the hall.

"What happened?" Rhaenyra question.

Robb repositioned Domeric's sleeping form, "We have a guest."

"Who?''

"Tyrion Lannister." He spit out the name and tensed in his seat. Rhaenyra sat straighter besides him, rage enveloping her.

"We ought to kill him," Theon laughed as he stalked back to his previous spot.

Robb rolled his eyes, "No. Remember what Maester Luwin said, to easily words of war become acts of war." 

Rhaenyra nodded, "I agree, but we can send his tiny cock in a box to his sister and brother. An ear to his father just for fun."

"Cock in a box." Theon giggled, he covered his mouth with his gloved hand. He turned to see Robb's reaction only to be silenced by the Lord's scowl. "We're only having fun.'' He extended his hands from his person only to dramatically drop them down, his belt clattered at the hit.

"Go get Bran," Theon immediately ran to the closest wall and pushed a tapestry out of the way. He disappeared into the passageway.

Robb lifted his hand, a guard near the main door opened it. A man, clearly of the Night's Watch, stalked in behind a vain Tyrion Lannister. The room silenced with each of his steps, the only sound being Grey Wind's soft growls at the edge of the platform. Rhaenyra's face soured at the sight of the lion.

"It is so silent in here you can hear a pin drop?" Tyrion joked a smile broke on his face. The sudden sound of a new voice woke the sleeping Henry. The baby's face reddened and wrinkled, then he wailed. Rhaenyra felt her own face redden as she rocked the baby. He only cried louder. "Must say I received a warmer welcome on my last visit. Even your pup there is upset at my presence."

Rhaenyra pulled the furs from her child and placed him against her shoulder. She rubbed his back gently as he cried into her ear. "Any man of the Night's Watch is welcome at Winterfell," spoke Robb. Her violet eyes looked from the lion to the crow. She nodded in agreement with her husband.

Tyrion looked strongly toward Robb, "Any man of the Night's watch but not me, eh boy?'' Rhaenyra readjusted her child and scowled down to the man before her. She held back her urge to gut him for his disrespect.

"I am not your boy, Lannister." Robb glared to him, proudly holding his son. "I am the Lord of Winterfell while my father is away."

"And you might learn a Lord's courtesy," he was interrupted by a servant entrance opening. Hodor entered holding Bran, the young boy dangled in the servant's grip. "So it's true. Hello Bran." Rhaenyra pulled her child from her shoulder to see the soothed Henry. His breath shattered as she looked down at him.

"Hello,'' Bran's eyes met Rhaenyra's. She nodded to him, encouraging his cordial conversation.

"Do you remember anything about what happened?"

"He has no memory of what happened." Rhaenyra interrupted.

Tyrion looked down to the floor, "Curious.''

"Why are you here?'' Robb questioned.

"Would your kind companion be so kind as to kneel, my neck beginning to hurt," ignored the Lannister.

"Kneel Hodor," Rhaenyra watched as the giant obeyed her good brother's command. He was eye level with Tyrion, innocent.

"Do you like to ride Bran?" Rhaenyra tensed at the question.

"Yes," said Bran. "Well, I mean I did like to."

Maester Luwin interrupted, equally upset with the interaction. "The boy has lost the use of his legs."

Tyrion glared back at the man, "What of it? With the best horse and saddle, even a cripple can ride." Robb tensed at the word, as did Rhaenyra. No Stark called Bran a cripple. The slight hope he would regain use of his legs vanished as the word rolled off the Lannister's tongue. 

"I'm not a cripple,'' softly spoke Bran.

"Then I am not a dwarf," joked Tyrion. "My father will be elated to hear it." He reached into his small cloak to retrieve parchment, he held it out for Bran. "I have a gift for you. Give that to your saddler, he will provide the rest." The little lord tore the string from the scroll eagerly. He gently opened it with a curious expression. "You must shape the horse to the rider. Start by teaching it to respond to the reigns and the boy's voice." Tyrion's gaze shifted to Robb and Rhaenyra. Rhaenyra simply nodded to him, slightly grateful for his gift.

"Will I really be able to ride?" Bran's soft voice questioned, he eagerly looked from Tyrion to his sister in law and brother.

Tyrion looked to the floor, "On horseback, you'll be as tall as any other rider."

"Is this some kind of trick? Why do you want to help him?'' Aggressively questioned Robb.

Rhaenyra interrupted him, "Robb," she clenched her jaw and turned to stare back at the Lannister who smirked at their quarrel.

"It is alright my lady. I have a tender spot for cripples, bastards and broken things."

"You have done my brother by law a kindness," smiled Rhaenyra. She stood from her seat, arms still clasped around her son. "The hospitality of Winterfell is yours."

Tyrion laughed lightly, "I think not my lady. The look on your husband's face says otherwise, as did the look you had when I entered this room. So, I beg you to spare me the false kindness, Lady Stark. There is a brothel outside your wall's, I will find a bed there and all of us can sleep happy. I shall not worry about you pressing a dagger to my neck as I sleep or having to wake up to find I have been flayed." Rhaenyra's smiled faded as the words flowed. She glared down to him, she nodded to the guards at the hall's door for them to open it.

She walked to Maester Luwin and whispered, "We are done for the day. Sit Bran outside with Rickon." He nodded as she and Robb left the room, uneasy of the lion still being so close.


	15. Chapter 15

Rhaenyra hummed as she washed Henry, she unconsciously sung random words of the song aloud as she did. "A lion still has claws," she rinsed her child's head of the bathing oils and soaps, mindful of his eyes as she did. She continued to hum as she lifted him from the small bath. "As long and sharp as yours." Rhaenyra carried him to the bed, a cloth waiting to dry him, And so he spoke, and so he spoke, That lord of Castamere." She dried Henry and continued to hum.

Robb, who laid on the bed in his drawers side. "Do you have to sing that?''

"Sing what?"

"The Rains of Castamere.''

"I did not notice," Rhaenyra giggled as she lifted Henry to her chest and discarded the cloth from the bed. "Can you get me a new cloth for him?" Robb stood from the bed and walked to the closest chest, he opened it quickly and pulled a piece of white fabric from it. Rhaenyra muttered a thank you before wrapping Henry in his diaper. "Are you going to bathe? I would like to join you." She smirked to him as he sat back in his previous spot.

Robb laughed, "Sure, Domeric could stay with my brothers for a bit longer." He watched Rhaenyra as she lifted their son from the bed, only to dress him in his sleeping clothes. "Love?''

"Yes." She turned to him, her violet eyes gazing back.

"What of the lion?''

She tensed slightly, "Let him leave. Your father will tell the king what happened and we will have justice, do not worry. You only need to worry when Tywin Lannister is at our gates wanting each of our heads." She laughed and laid beside him, Henry nestled against her. "You need to rest, stay with our children and your brothers tomorrow. I will meet with our people." Robb nodded and placed his arm around her, he kissed her head and smiled to their son. Henry eagerly waited to be fed, his grey eyes watching his mother's movements. "Yes sweet boy, I did not forget." She laughed and undid the ties on her shift.

"We ought to cancel our meetings with the people,'' Robb traced his son's cheek as he suckled. "We all hardly spend time together."

"That would be wonderful, a day just for the Stark's and their pups." She giggled and turned her head to kiss his bearded cheek. "After you get a shave.''

"What?''

"Yes, it is too prickly. Domeric has scratches all over his cheeks the poor thing," teased Rhaenyra. 

Robb rolled his eyes at her silly lie and fell on his back, "Fine. I shall take him with me in the morning, get his first haircut."

"I'll come, my hair is far too tedious. I hate brushing it."

"No, your long hair will be gone! Our entire marriage you have not cut it!" Robb gasped, placing his hand against his mouth in false shock. "Do you not fear I will not find you beautiful?''

Rhaenyra rolled her eyes at him, "Yes Robb, because you love me for my hair." He laughed and reached to grab a lock of her waves, yanking it lightly. 

The following morning, Rhaenyra stood alone in the courtyard. The silence of the morning's break easing her nerves. Slowly, she walked to the stables, the sound of her boots crushing against the dirt and various stone breaking her peaceful silence. Happily, she tightened her cloak over her shoulders, adjusting the dire wolf broach holding it as she did. The cold of the North always pleased her. It alluded to a sense of belonging. The gods blessed her when she married Robb Stark, keeping her in her beloved North. If she had married a Southern Lord, she would have killed herself from the heat.

Rhaenyra lifted her head as the sound of horses disrupted her thoughts. Her hand reached for her sleeve, tugging it tightly to cover any exposed skin. She further burrowed her face into the fur the rested against her shoulders. Her eyes met the various horses that lined the stalls. She steadily scanned each, attempting to find Bran's wanting to saddle it for him. The new contraption had been ready since the previous night, the saddler quickly constructed it with a promise of a months worth of gold and silver.

"There you are," Rhaenyra sung as her eyes found the brown horse. She opened the door of its stable and entered the small space. The horse calmly allowed her in. She reached the furthest wall and pulled the reigns from the wall and began to ready him for his rider. Rhaenyra guided him from the stall, tugging him ever so gently into the yard. Patiently, she waited for Hodor and Bran. 

Rhaenyra caressed the beautiful beast's nose. She admired its markings of an intertwined brown and white. She removed her hand quickly as the horse neighed loudly, further breaking the morning's peace.

She stiffened quickly, the presence of another alerting her. "Good Morning, Rhea." Came Bran's soft voice. Turning to him, she smiled. "You cut your hair,'' he exclaimed as he noticed her riggedly cut hair. Her dark waves grazed the nape of her neck, not reaching her shoulders. Embarrassed, she touched its soft ends. 

"I did and hello to you too little Lord. Oh, thank you, Hodor! I'll keep him steady, continue saddling the horse please." Rhaenyra smirked to the large farmhand, in his grasp the new saddle. She walked to the pair and cautiously reached for Bran. With shaky arms and steps, she walked held him, walking him to sit atop the empty stable's bar. "How has your morning progressed thus far?" she questioned.

Bran shrug, his arm wrapped tightly against Rhaenyra's shoulder for support. "Fine. Old Nan brought me oats, they were cold when she got to my room." His sister in law laughed gently, her hand went to his waist, her grip hoping to steady him more. "Where's Robb and my nephews?"

" I left him with Domeric, getting a haircut. I am surprised you did not hear your poor nephews screams and cries when you left your room. They should be here at any moment. I told him we'd leave without them if they were not here before the servants begin their duties. I believe he will fall asleep if he returns to our room." Bran laughed at her comment, knowing it to be true. The two watched as Hodor successfully placed the saddle against the horse, without a worry from the beast.

"Maester Luwin said I can learn to shoot a bow from the horse. Do you think that's true?"

Rhaenyra turned towards the child, pushing his hair away from his forehead as she did. "Yes. Many warriors and Knights shoot arrows on horseback. They say that is the most formidable battle skill a Dothraki has." Bran smiled at her remark. 

Hodor stood beside the now saddled horse. With a shout of his name, he rejoiced in the completion of his task. "Thank you, Hodor! You can go to have breakfast now." Rhaenyra turned to Bran once more, "Now are you ready for our little adventure." She lifted him into her arms again, struggling to carry his weight. As they reached the horse, she pushed him up on the saddle. "Hold on," she sat him tightly against the saddle's high back praying he would not fall over.

Rhaenyra stood beside the horse adjusting Bran into his new saddle. She tightened the leather straps around his legs, whistling as she did. Her gloved hand comfortably positioned his foot in the saddle, "It'll be good practice for you and your horse, to get out and learn how to work together." She stood on her toes, gently adjusting his cloak around his shoulders.

"I am excited," Bran said happily. He eagerly held the reigns, dropping them only to buckle himself in the new seat. "Are we leaving now?''

"Yes, it appears your brother and my children are still asleep." Rhaenyra gripped the reigns with him, guiding the horse outside the castle walls. "We will have fun with-"

"Rhea!" Came a startling screech of her nickname.

"Bloody hell!" She turned seeing Theon staring down at the two from upon the balcony above the stables. "You nearly frightened me to death! What?!" 

"Wait for us!" He screamed back. There goes the silence of the morning, she thought.


	16. Chapter 16

Rhaenyra rested in the grass against her husband's legs. She eagerly watched Bran ride across the field before her, Domeric happily pressed against his chest. Their joyous cries breaking the forest's tranquility. Rhaenyra smiled at the sight of the two happy children. She turned to her side, seeing her youngest enjoying the new outdoor setting. He laid on his mother's discarded cloak, desperately attempting to lift his head to examine the grass that temptingly tickled his palms as he pulled himself further from his parents. Henry would give an upset cry when Rhaenyra would pull him toward her again and lay him back on his stomach.

Robb would laugh each time, "Stubborn boy we have."

"He gets it from you," Rhaenyra's head fell back, her eyes meeting his.

"Oh no love, from you." He bent slightly in his seat to kiss her forehead. Rhaenyra giggled lightly, returning to watch her son and brother in law. Bran caused the horse to erupt into a run, he and Domeric happily shouted together as it did. Their hair bounced with each trot, smiles gracing their youthful faces. "Not too fast," advised Robb. The children paid no mind.

His hands rested against Rhaenyra's shoulders, gripping ever so slightly. His worry emanating through his touch. She sighed, reaching to rub his gloved hand with her own.

"When are you going to tell him?" Questioned Theon, he reached to his side bringing his bow closer to him to check its string. Rhaenyra turned in her seat, her interest peaking at his question. She rested her arms against Robb's lap looking up to him for an answer.

"Not now," he whispered. Rhaenyra's stomach dropped, wanting to know what the two were referring to.

"You need to make the Lannisters pay for Jory and the others."

"What?" She whispered, "What happened?" Robb sighed heavily as his blue eyes met hers.

"My father's guards, including Jory, were killed by Lannister soldiers." Rhaenyra's heart raced at his words. Her mind raced as she worried about Ned and her sister's by law.

"What of your father?"

"He was injured, but alive. He remains hand of the King." Rhaenyra pushed a hand through her hair as her anxiousness increased. An undying need to race to the Capital heavily increasing.

"Why was I not told?" Robb shook his head, turning his gaze go watch his brother and son. "I am your wife and your lady." She angrily turned to Theon.

"You did not need to worry," spoke Robb. He lifted her hands from his thighs, she had dug her nails into his breeches.

Rhaenyra sighed, "From now, you each will inform me of every matter concerning our house. Do you understand?" Theon quickly nodded, Robb made no form of agreement. "We need to make the Lannisters pay."

"You lot are talking about war," Robb said.

"We're talking about justice," Theon calmly argued.

"Only the Lord of Winterfell can call in the Bannermen raise an army," Robb's hands returned to Rhaenyra's shoulder's as he spoke.

Theon turned, his eyes watching Bran and Domeric. "The Lannister's put a spear through your father's leg." Rhaenyra turned abruptly, rage enveloping her at the thought of Ned falling over because of the lions. "The Kingslayer rides for Casterly Rock where no one can touch him!" She silently encouraged Theon's anger, they needed to act.

"You want me to march on Casterly Rock?" Robb nearly laughed at the thought, Rhaenyra loudly interrupted him.

"You are not a boy no longer! Have you not a wife, children, have you not killed men? Why are you apprehensive? Robb, they attacked your father! They already started the war." How can he not see the wrongness in his actions, she thought.

"You are meant to represent your house when your father can't," agreed Theon.

Robb's blue eyes looked between the two, his gaze meeting Theon's, "And it's not your duty. Because it's not your house." He turned back to watch Bran and Domeric but immediately stood. He moved passed his wife and son to clearly look around their surroundings. "Where's Bran and Domeric?" Rhaenyra stood quickly, her violet eyes looking through the rows of trees for any sign of a horse. She lifted Henry, holding him closely to her chest.

"Don't know," Theon said. He quickly reached for his bow, prepared to search for the two. Robb's hand rested against his sword, he worriedly glanced to his wife. "It's not my house."

"Fuck you, Theon," Rhaenyra screamed as she walked to the edge of the clearing. She hurriedly reached into her dress' sleeve, gently retrieving her thin dagger from it. She walked quickly, trying to maneuver over roots and rocks with her son in her arms. Worry encased her at the thought of finding them, dead or terrified. Rhaenyra's breathe shattered with each step. Her palms sweated beneath her gloves as irrational thoughts and images filled her mind.

A knot filled her stomach as she heard shouts and cries. Rhaenyra began to pray to the old gods, begging them. Feet away stood her husband. He gripped the neck of a woman, his other hand strongly held his sword. Before them, was two men. The three were dressed in disgusting clothing, dusty furs, and leathers. Wildlings, she thought.

The two men held Bran and Domeric, in alarming positions. Bran was chocked by his neck, his lower body laid heavily against the mud and grass below. Her son was dangled by his feet.

Rhaenyra swallowed heavily as her fear increased. She looked to her side, rage encasing her as the leaves crunched under a foot's pressure. She tossed her dagger, gripping it tightly to press it against the threat's neck.

"Shit," Theon whispered, he fell back slightly as he looked to her dagger. Ignoring the weapon, he simply nodded to the sight before them lifting his bow and a single arrow as he did.

Rhaenyra adjusted her grip on Henry, praying he would not make a noise. Slowly, she walked toward Bran and the wildling. She turned back toward Theon, gesturing to the other holding Domeric.

She gripped her dagger tighter, the jewels that embedded its handle indenting into her palm. She quietly reached the wildling's back, she felt Robb's eyes on her as she imbedded her weapon into the man's skull. The quick crunch of bone and the spurt of blood was all she needed. Rhaenyra pulled her dagger from the man, pushing him away from Bran as she did. She ran toward the wildling woman as the sound of an arrow ripped through the stilled wind. Robb ran to Domeric as the arrow shot through the wildling holding him. The arrow had ripped through his tattered tunic, it's head covered in blood and flesh.

Rhaenyra pushed the woman to the ground, holding her down with the heel of her boot. The woman frightenly looked to her, clearly questioning her capability.

Robb held Domeric closely as he held his arm for Bran, the child lifted himself from the ground to examine the death around him. He turned to see Theon, the ward had drawn another arrow. He pointed it directly at the wildling's head, "Pardon me, my lady." Rhaenyra removed her foot from the woman and joined Bran's side. His leg was cut.

"Are you alright?" She questioned, worry evident in her voice.

Bran nodded, "Yes it doesn't hurt."

"Tough little lad," interrupted Theon. He continued to threaten the wildling as he spoke, "In the Iron Islands you're not a man until you've killed your first enemy." He gestured to another daed man, laying feet from the others a sword cut decorating his neck and chest. "Well done."

"What," whispered Rhaenyra, she looked toward Robb with a questioning glance. He glared to Theon. Robb clenched his jaw as his brow furrowed.

"Have you lost your mind?" He intensely questioned, Domeric began to screech at the sudden shout. Robb's hand went to his son's back, rubbing in an attempt to soothe. "What if you missed? My son would be dead!"

"He would have killed you and dropped Domeric! Both of you would be dead."

"You don't have the right."

"To what save your heir's life? It was the only thing to do so I did it."

"Stop." Rhaenyra interrupted, the two turned to her. She looked to the wildling woman that remained under Theon's threat. "What shall we do with her? Kill her?"

The woman rolled in her spot, she hurriedly began to beg. "Give me my life malady, ma lords. And I'm your's." Her desperation was evident as she groveled. Her hands clasped together, yearning for sympathy.

"We'll keep her alive," said Robb, Rhaenyra nodded in agreement.


	17. Chapter 17

The familiar bustle of Winterfell had returned. In a silent joy, the servants happily fulfilled their duties in attempts to honor their new and temporary Lord and Lady. Rhaenyra used this to her advantage. She leaned against the platform that supported the high table of the great hall, she calmly watched as various servants began to deeply clean the filth of the royal visit. Her eyes anxiously watched as two men replaced a tapestry feet away. She sighed heavily as one man nearly fell attempting to pull the heavy art from the wall. Rhaenyra turned her gaze as a light giggle erupted near her.

"A man nearly falling to his death humors you?" Her violet eyes questionably watched the wildling woman on the floor. The woman shredded hay, attempting to spread it amongst the grime on the stone floor. "Does it?" She asked once more intrigued.

"No my lady," she spoke. Rhaenyra laughed lightly, she brought her hands to her face enjoying their coolness against her cheek.

"I find it quite jesting." The woman's head snapped up, a peculiar look on her face. "Tell me," she dropped her hands to her waist, gripping them together in the hidden comfort of her sleeves. "What is your name? No one seems to know. I am tired of calling you, woman."

"Osha," the woman looked to the floor, gathering more hay as she did.

Rhaenyra nodded, "Osha, that is a pretty name."

"Not meant to be pretty. Just something to call me by," she sat against her feet, ignoring the shackles that held them together. "May I ask you something now?" Rhaenyra nodded and pushed herself from her position, she stood hoping to allude a dominant stance, "Can you tell me a bit about your family? I find it a bit confusing, trying to know who the lords are."

Rhaenyra's mouth opened, she cocked her head to the side. "Of course. Ask what you will."

"You are not a Stark. I can tell by your eyes, they look nothing like good ol' Benjen's." Rhaenyra did not interrupt. "But?" Osha's gaze met hers, "Who are your children? Who is your Lord husband? I find it rather odd no other servant is willing to answer a silly slave's questions." Rhaenyra giggled at her sarcastic remark.

"I am Stark, but I was born a Bolton." Osha froze, her hands shook as hay began to lightly fall from her grasp. "Yes, I am aware of what my father willingly does to your people. You are safe here. I am not going to turn you over to him unless you bring my family harm." Rhaenyra watched as Osha's shoulders shook slightly, her gaze adverted back to her duties. "My husband is the bold fellow you see around the grounds, the redhead. My sons are the little boys who look just like him, the ones hanging off of me most times. His brothers are the only children living here, they are sweet boys," Rhaenyra sighed. "The other young fellow is Theon, don't worry about him. If he speaks to you, harms you in any way, let me know." 

Osha looked back, feeling as if the ward would appear at the mere mention of his name. "He is odd. He gives a horrid feeling when he's near. Leaves your mouth tatsting rancid after talking to him," Rhaenyra giggled. 

In her quarters, Rhaenyra crawled on the stone floor. She slowly stalked to the foot of the bed trying to ignore the tears on the skirt of her dress. She abruptly rose, placing her arms along the furs. Her face contoured into a silly expression, erupting screeches from her children. Domeric smiled and clapped his hands, "Again!" He demanded. Rhaenyra retreated back to the fireplace and proceeded to repeat her actions. Domeric squealed again, he fell against the pillows in his humor. Rhaenyra smiled, she pulled herself to the bed to see her sons. Henry curiously watched, his grey eyes questionably looking from his brother to his mother. 

"You find me funny? My beautiful boy thinks me hilarious!" She pulled Domeric from the pillows. Her hands gently pulled his small tunic, revealing the pale skin of his stomach. Rhaenyra tickled the exposed skin, laughing along with him. "Henry!" The baby turned to her, carefully gnawing at his hand. "What shall we do with your brother? Send him away? Eat him," she ignored Domeric's screams of protest, "Or shall we kiss him until he learns not to laugh at his mummy." Rhaenyra giggled as she kissed her son's cheek. 

"No mama!" Domeric squeezed away, finding safety besides his brother. "Funny mama," Rhaenyra gently tapped his cheek before turning to Henry. 

"And you sweet boy did not help in the torment fo your brother," her hand reached to smooth the light hair on his head. She was interrupted by the bedroom door opening. 

"Dada!" Screamed Domeric, he quickly heaved himself off the bed to run to his father. "Mama funny," Rhaenyra gave a look of false anger to her child. 

Robb lifted his son into his arms, "How so?"

"She is," he placed his head against Robb's shoulder, his small hand tangled into his father's hair. He sighed gently before burrowing himself into his father's cloak. 

"Alright, I believe you. Love," his blue eyes met Rhaenyra's. "We must speak urgently." He turned to Domeric, whose eyes slowly began to close. "You will go with Old Nan for a kip." Rhaenyra watched as her husband opened the door to hand Domeric to the woman. She was surprised the see she did not crumble under her son's weight. "Hello," he smiled brightly to her. Rhaenyra simply waved before bringing Henry to sit on her lap. 

"What shall we discuss," Robb walked to her, falling to his knees as he reached the two. His arms fell to either side of her, gloved hands smoothing over the thick furs. "Or you just wanted to watch or son taste his skin?" She laughed, pulling Henry's hand away from his mouth. She shook her head before bouncing Henry against her knee. He cried loudly before attempting to grab his father's face. Robb did not mind as the wet hands grabbed his nose. Rhaenyra disgustedly looked at her husband's face, it shinned from the drool their son lovingly whipped. 

"I had something in mind." He stood then, towering over the two. "I've called the banners." Rhaenyra ceased bouncing her son, pausing immediately. Her violet eyes bore into his, emotion not evident in her gaze. "I need some words, Lady Stark." She tried to speak, nothing. 

Rhaenyra stood, holding her child in one arm. She threw the other around her husband's neck, he gripped her waist. "I have never been more proud," she turned and kissed his scratchy cheek. "When will they come?"

"Tomorrow most likely, the day after at the latest." Robb began to remove his thick cloak before handing her a scroll. "This is why were going," Rhaenyra quickly recognized the curved letters, the words were in a different tongue. 

She shook her head before throwing the parchment into the unlit fireplace. "Those aren't her words."

"You don't think I know that." 

"Well its good to know they are expecting us."


End file.
